The Ones We Lost
by catlover1033
Summary: The last thing Juliet, new cop in town, wanted to do was go to some run-down traveling amusement park on her precious time off. Yet while she's there, she runs into an intriguing man who just may or may not be connected to the twenty-year-old case of a missing boy, Shawn Spencer. Psych AU, Endgame Shules and Shawn Whump - rated T for possible violence and language
1. The Ones We Meet

_**I hope you'll enjoy this totally AU Psych fic that nobody ever asked for yet has been on my mind for a long time! I know I've been solely in the NDHB fandoms but decided I wanted to try something new. So hello again to my old readers and welcome to some hopefully new ones! I hope you enjoy this!**_

 _ **The premise shall unfold. Endgame - Shules and Shawn whump. The rest is up for you to find out!**_

 ** _Usually I try not to beg, but PLEASE consider leaving a review so I can tell if anyone is actually interested in reading this! Might also post on AO3._**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

* * *

 _"_ _Come on, it'll be fun!"_

Famous last words.

Sitting on a grimy bench and wondering how many safety regulations the travelling amusement park was violating, Juliet O'Hara deeply regretted allowing her friends to drag her out here.

Haunted houses, halls of mirrors, rusted mini-rollercoasters… they weren't really her thing, especially after a long day of chasing down criminals.

If she were a saleswoman or secretary, maybe she'd be craving excitement. But as it was, Juliet just really wanted a cup of tea, a good book, and her cat curled up beside her.

Sighing, she saw in the distance that her friends had hopped off the dilapidated Ferris wheel and were heading to the barely-holding-together haunted house.

Reluctantly, Juliet stood up. Not to join her friends but because she was pretty sure the grime on the bench was actually soaking through her jeans. Glancing around, she opted for the friendliest looking path: a stretch of booths lined with stuffed animals and other prizes.

The first booth to catch her eye was the shooting game; some beaten up targets were hung on the further end of the booth and crappy plastic guns lined the counter. It seemed to be unstaffed but Juliet's competitive streak was activated simply by looking at a target.

This place probably didn't get many off-duty cops visiting.

"Want to play?"

Juliet stifled a shriek as two blue-green eyes blinked at her from behind a huge pile of stuffed unicorns.

"I…" She embarrassingly needed to catch her breath. "I didn't see you there!"

The unicorns rippled as they were quickly hung on a hook. From their midst, a young man stepped out.

"Unicorns do tend to have magical cloaking abilities," the man said, his voice serious but his twinkling eyes gave away the fact that he was not nearly as stoic as his expression. "If you just shoot one of these high quality guns at this incredibly well-made target and manage to hit it, one of these fantabulous beings…" he picked up a giant stuffed unicorn and tilted it toward her, its fabric horn tapping her forehead lightly, "…can be all yours."

"You're a good salesman," Juliet smiled slowly, feeling her exhaustion and dark mood lifting slightly at the man's ridiculous commentary.

"It's not hard when you're partners with such sparkly rhino-horse mutants." The man put the stuffed unicorn on the counter. "I happen to know for a _fact_ that this unicorn, Belinda's her name, can charm the pants off any passerby. Taking her home… well, your life would never be the same."

"Is that so?" Juliet leaned forward, a light laugh bubbling up in her chest.

"Beyond true," the man raised an eyebrow. "If you can believe that."

She laughed and put a couple dollars onto the table.

"I guess I don't have a choice," she grinned and picked up one of the toy guns. "I'm succumbing to the unicorn charm." Carefully she aimed and pulled the flimsy trigger, her actions rewarded with a weak popping.

"Missed!" The man leaned against the counter, expression sympathetic.

"No way, I was totally on the mark!" Juliet protested.

She was a cop and a good cop at that. She refused to believe she had missed a flimsy carnival target.

"Try again," the man encouraged her.

Burning with the need to prove herself, Juliet picked up the plastic gun. Four shots later, completing her two dollars' worth of one round, nothing had appeared on the target and Juliet was swallowing her indignation and reminding herself that this was just a game.

"Guess I'm not as good a shot as I thought," she shrugged, turning to go.

"Wait!"

She turned and the man was holding out one of the unicorns.

"If the game weren't rigged, you would have earned it," he shrugged. "Besides, Belinda talks the other unicorns' ears off. And she has horn envy. I think honestly it's time for her to just move on…"

Juliet felt something like a childish rush of happiness flood her as she allowed the man to place the fluffy toy in her hands.

"Thank you," she smiled at him.

Then his words caught up to her.

"Wait, this is rigged?"

He looked guilty, glancing one way then the other before leaning across the booth counter. "All the games here are," he whispered.

"I knew it!" Juliet exclaimed, instantly righteously indignant all over again. "I totally nailed those targets!"

"You're a good shot," the man conceded. "I bet you were at the top of your police academy class."

Juliet froze and stared at the man.

"How…" Her brow furrowed. "How did you know I was a cop?"

He laughed lightly, tapping one finger against his temple. "Usually I run the psychic booth," was the only explanation he offered. Quickly his playful expression dropped. "This isn't a good place for a cop to hang out, on duty or off." His deep eyes met hers and all her alarm bells went off.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Just… just trust me on this one. You…. You shouldn't come back."

"Is something going on here?" she took a step closer, suddenly worried.

For a split second, the man's expression was devastatingly hollow, void of anything, just…. _empty._

Then the moment was over and the man smiled widely at her. "I hope you enjoy Belinda. Make sure you massage her hooves every night before bed, otherwise she tends to have gas…"

On impulse, Juliet put her hand on top of the man's, a tingling sensation emanating from the contact.

"If something is wrong, I can help you," she whispered.

He put his other hand on top of her, sandwiching it. "Stay away." His voice was gentle, discordant with his words.

"Juan, your shift's up. Get your ass cleaning!" a rough voice called out.

The man, Juan, Juliet supposed his name was, pulled his hands away from hers, giving her a small smile. Then he was gone, slipping away into the shifting shadows of spinning lights.

* * *

He shouldn't have said anything.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

He shook his head and tried to focus on picking up garbage. But the only thing he could see was the image of the beautiful blonde police officer he had talked to earlier.

He shouldn't have said anything.

He _truly_ wanted to warn her so she would have her guard up and be _safe_ but as concern filled her expression, he realized he might have just made her more likely to poke around.

At least, he conceded, if she did then she would at least be aware that there was danger.

Maybe he had said something because she was a cop and they were in Santa Barbara.

He had seen the intelligence shining in her eyes and the practiced ease with which she raised the toy gun. She was _good_.

But nobody was good enough for what was going on here.

A memory flashed across his mind, lifeless eyes staring at him, hair matted with blood, a face barely recognizable yet all to familiar…

 _"This is what happens when you talk."_

What had he done? What hell had he invited down upon the innocent?

He shouldn't have said anything.

* * *

The encounter with the man at the carnival lingered in Juliet's mind. It seemed that she was unable to tear her thoughts away from those blue-green eyes that had twinkled so playfully then communicated depths of despair in such close succession.

 _"Stay away."_ His soft words rang in her ears.

Frustrated, she ran a hand through her hair while sweeping her gaze across the bulletin board of missing people and wanted criminals.

Seeing the faces peering out at her helped her focus; her hands reached for her gun to reassemble as she took in the painstakingly familiar images.

Wanted: Despaurx. Wanted: Rollins & MacQuarrie. Missing: Professor Christopher Renaud. Wanted: YinYang. Missing: Shawn Spencer.

The last name always caused her to pause; the paper was so old it had yellowed yet nobody could bear to take it down. Not when it was the son of one of their own officers.

Henry Spencer had retired long before Juliet had arrived at the station, yet she still knew of the man. His name was occasionally whispered around the station, with sorrowful regret.

They had failed to bring back his son.

It seemed that nobody really could accept it, and so the fading picture of a smiling twelve-year-old boy stayed with them always.

"O'Hara!"

Juliet jumped, turning to find that her partner, Carlton Lassiter, was striding towards her. A couple weeks into the job and she was pretty sure he wasn't going to request a different partner – something that other officers had told her was quite the feat. Apparently, the head detective had taken a liking to her.

 _He sure had a strange way of showing it_ , Juliet reflected as the man barked a quick succession of orders at her. They were running to the patrol car before she had a chance to fully process what he had said – something about a burglary and a officer and a kid… She was still getting used to the whirlwind aspect of the job.

"…and be careful around the subject of Shawn. He's still pretty touchy about it…" Lassiter was saying and Juliet immediately straightened, her attention caught.

Lassiter showing any level of sensitivity would do that.

"Who is?" she forced her words between the wail of the siren above and mumbled words of the detective beside her.

"Henry Spencer."

Quickly, the image of the bulletin board in the station flitted through Juliet's mind, one smiling boy's face standing out in particular.

They pulled up to slightly weathered house by the water and Juliet realized where there were.

They had just arrived at the home of the dad of Shawn Spencer, missing child.

* * *

"No, I will not calm down!"

The sound of a man shouting angrily greeted them as they exited the vehicle. Juliet picked up her pace, as did Lassiter beside her.

Rounding the corner, they saw a large bald man arguing with a frightened looking police officer.

"We'll take it from here," Lassiter approached. The lower ranking officer gave them a relieved look and scurried off.

"Thank God, finally someone who might actually do something!" The man's piercing blue eyes fixed themselves on Lassiter then her and she was struck by the intense emotion behind them. They reminded her of something she had just seen recently… She couldn't put her finger on it but had to move her attention to the task at hand.

"Mr. Spencer." Lassiter was pulling out a notebook. "What exactly was stolen from your home?"

"I'll take you to the scene of the crime myself," the man huffed, already moving toward the door of the house.

Juliet and Lassiter exchanged a look then followed the man, who was moving remarkably quickly for his apparent age.

Walking through a messy living room and up stairs to a hall dotted with random photos and objects, they arrived at a closed door.

"You should dust for finger prints," Henry Spencer insisted. Juliet was about to reach for the materials to do so when Lassiter stopped her.

"Can we see what is missing first and how they might have entered and exited?"

"It's a crime scene! Do you want to chance messing it up?!" The man's face reddened.

"Lassiter, we can…" Juliet opened her mouth to say it wouldn't be much trouble to dust the doorknob first, but the senior detective swiftly shushed her.

"Trust me, Juliet, we're going to want to know what was stolen before we do anything else." His face was set in a mixed expression of annoyance and resignation.

"Fine," the older man looked none-too pleased with them but opened the door to reveal a small neat bedroom.

Toys lined the shelves, along with comic books and other trinkets and it took Juliet a moment to realize that they were in a child's bedroom. Judging by the looks of things, nobody had lived in this room for years and years…

Juliet's breath suddenly caught in her chest as she realized this was Shawn Spencer's bedroom. She bit her lip and tried not to look at Henry Spencer as she took in the fact that he had kept his missing child's bedroom memorialized for almost twenty years.

"Mr. Spencer, please tell us what was taken." Lassiter's voice was a degree softer than usual, which meant he was being gentler than Juliet had ever seen him be before.

The man didn't quite look at them but pointed to the bed.

"There was a stuffed bear there last night. Now it's gone. I'm telling you, someone was _in here_. And whoever it was… I know they're connected to Sh… my son's kidnapping."

* * *

 _ **Again, PLEASE let me know if you're interested in reading more!**_

 _ **Best,**_

 _ **~catlover1033**_


	2. The Ones We Believe

_**Oh my, thank you for the very very kind reviews! I feel properly motivated to continue and I am so glad that you found this interesting! I've been having fun writing it. I'm trying to make it somewhat realistic, as much as can be done with the current set up. I also am really enjoying developing a relationship between Shawn and Jules - I feel like not a lot of stories focus on the development of their relationship so that's been really interesting for me to take a shot at.**_

 _ **Don't worry, we will get into how everything came to be what it is in the next chapter or two!**_

 _ **Enjoy this installment and let me know what you think!**_

* * *

"We should have at least looked around."

Juliet couldn't cloak the displeasure in her voice as they drove back to the station. She turned to look out the window, holding her body stiffly.

She did not appreciate the way the head detective had dismissed her desire to follow up on Henry Spencer's complaint.

"O'Hara, the man is crazy! He thinks his son's kidnapper broke into his house fourteen years later to steal a _teddy bear_?" Her partner sounded equally displeased but there was an almost guilty edge to his voice. Juliet could see his bright blue eyes glancing at her every now and then.

Juliet thought she might have an idea why. A few weeks into their partnership and they hadn't had a major disagreement… up until now. She had a feeling that her stony partner wasn't quite as insensitive as he let on – in fact, she was pretty sure he was maybe even regretting some of his actions.

"Look, Carlton," Juliet finally braved the silence. "I respect you – a lot. You're a good detective. But so am I. If we're going to work together, we need to listen to each other."

The man paused and Juliet thought she saw a flicker of admiration in his eyes before he countered her point.

"O'Hara, I've seen this before. When a person goes missing, the family clings to any hope that they may be alive. They obsess, to the point of losing all reason. If we were to look around, we'd only encourage that nonsense… all statistics tell us that boy is dead."

Juliet reeled slightly, still not used to the blunt way the older detective talked about death. Her stomach turned slightly as she recalled the desperation in Henry Spencer's eyes when he talked about his son.

"How can you just say that?" Juliet stared at the dark-haired officer.

"Because it's true."

She didn't buy Carlton Lassiter's cold exterior but he sure was doing a hell of a job selling it.

"We could have at least offered him some peace of mind. If we don't look into it, you know he will," Juliet shook her head. "Dismissing him will only hurt more."

That caused Lassiter to pause; Juliet knew she had brought up something the man hadn't thought about. _God, with such horrible bedside manner, how had he become head detective?_

"When you've been around long enough, you'll see that I'm right," the man said gruffly.

Juliet tried to hide her small smile, turning away to look out the window again. Based on Lassiter's annoyed tone, she knew had won this argument.

Now she just had to find an excuse to get back to Henry Spencer's house to take a proper look around.

Juliet had seen the intelligent gleam in the retired officer's eye; he was sharp. And she could tell by the state of that bedroom that if something were out of place, he would know.

Maybe she really was letting the emotion of the situation get to her, but Juliet knew there was something more. Some instinct was telling her that if Henry Spencer said something was missing from his son's room, then there really was.

And she wanted to know why.

* * *

It was torture to be so close and so far at the same time.

He wondered if they were taunting him. He didn't doubt their ability to be so excruciatingly cruel, yet he also knew that the traveling park only stops for business.

It's definitely not a good sign for Santa Barbara that they now have business in the area.

But here he was and the proximity was driving him insane.

He wished his mind didn't work the way it did - that maybe he could forget the faces and voices and every damn corner of a life he barely had the chance to live.

Pacing behind the trailer that served as home to him and a couple other guys, he ran his hands through his hair, fingers curling inward toward his skull, a pathetic attempt to stop the racing agony that filled his mind.

"Juan!" A rough voice jerked him out of his pacing. "Get over here."

Crow, a large man with shortly cropped brown hair and tattoos curling around all his limbs, was waiting expectantly, his arms crossed.

He followed Crow to the haunted house, ducking under the makeshift platform the structure was set up on top of. It was built just high enough off the ground that he could stand with his hair barely brushing the rough beams above.

"Check these." A flashlight and briefcase was shoved at him and he found a spot among the boxes and random mannequins and machine parts to sit. Once settled, flashlight poised, he started sifting through the stacks and stacks of Benjamin Franklins that were packed into the case.

In a few minutes, he found the first fake, the seal ever so slightly too large. The next two were together, the fourth following close behind. He didn't even bother to keep going.

"This thing is riddled with counterfeits," he said quietly, pushing the case back toward Crow.

The man swore violently, kicking the briefcase angrily. "Those shitty Russians…" he growled.

The man sitting on the ground stayed perfectly still, not wanting to bring any attention to himself. Unfortunately that didn't seem like an option. Crow yanked him off the ground roughly by the arm. "Alright psychic," the large man pinned him against a storage container. "We need _real_ money. Time to use your… _skills._ "

The smaller man didn't outwardly react, only nodded with a practiced blank look on his face.

However on the inside, he was alight with a strange mixture of panic and hope. _They were going to take him out… in Santa Barbara!_

A small object was suddenly thrown at his feet and as he took it in, the hope he had felt disappeared, replaced with pure fear.

"Did you…." He couldn't finish the sentence, instead lunged forward at Crow. The larger man easily slammed him back and drove a fist into his gut.

"Relax," Crow drawled, watching without emotion as he bent over retching. "I didn't kill your old man…" Crow picked up the object from the ground, shoving it in his face. "…at least not yet." He leered, face wide with malice. "He's looking great, by the way. Your dad, I mean. Getting old, but hey. Who isn't?" Crow bared his teeth in a twisted version of a smile. "Here." He threw the object back down on the ground, grinding it into the dirt with the toe of his boot. "Hang onto it, as a reminder."  
Then Crow left.

Waiting until he was out of sight, the smaller man bent over and gently picked up the object.

"Hey Snuggles," he said quietly, dusting the dirt off the teddy bear.

As usual, the only reminder he had of his old life was in the form of a threat.

Turning the stuffed animal over in his hands, he tried to control his emotions as he processed the fact that someone had gone into his dad's house and managed to retrieve his old toy.

The message was clear; they would easily find his family and kill them if he stepped out of line.

He had seen them do it before and knew they would do it again and so he had no choice.

Santa Barbara may have been the city that Shawn Spencer grew up in, but it also would have to remain the city that he had disappeared from forever.

"Juan! Come on!"

He hid the teddy bear in one of the boxes and headed for the van that he knew was waiting.

All these years of dreaming of returning to Santa Barbara and he was finally going to glimpse his home in order to scope out robbery locations.

* * *

The file was heavy and thick, its weight noticeable in her hands.

Juliet pulled it out of the cabinet from between the dusty folders pressed tightly on each side – a graveyard of cases that had not been solved and likely never would.

Sitting down in an abandoned chair in the room, she settled down among the labyrinth of old records and opened the file of one Shawn Spencer.

A picture fell out and she recognized it as the same one that was on the bulletin board. Stacked below it were a couple other pictures; she flipped through them slowly, familiarizing herself with the boy's freckled face and slightly crooked smile. Next she examined the statements, chest clenching at the anguish apparent in the writing even fourteen years later.

The list of tips was huge, as was the list actions taken to attempt to find the boy. However when, a couple hours later, she had sifted through everything, there were no clear leads on what had happened to Shawn Spencer.

He had been biking around his neighborhood and vanished forever, bike and all.

And that was all they had.  
No leads, no witnesses, nothing.

"Juliet?"

The blonde woman jerked, looking up to find her chief staring at her with a look of puzzlement.

"Chief!" Juliet jumped up, nearly upsetting the papers she had been sifting through. "I was just…"

A picture of the boy slipped from her precarious pile and slowly drifted to the ground in front of the chief's feet. The older woman's face creased with regret as she slowly bent down and picked it up and stared at it for a bit.

"Lassiter told me about the call from Henry," she said finally, handing the yellowing photo back to Juliet. Her piercing eyes rose to meet Juliet's. "Why are you looking at the Spencer file?"

"I shouldn't intrude, I just…" Juliet flushed slightly but the chief just looked at her evenly.

"Don't downplay your hunches, O'Hara. If you have thoughts, I want to hear them."

Juliet paused, a rush of surprise and gratitude filling her. She straightened slightly.

"I don't think we should have left the Spencer home so quickly – we should have investigated his claims more thoroughly."

There. She said it. To her boss of all people.

Chief Vick's eyebrows raised slightly.

"Care to elaborate?" was all she said.

"I mean…" Juliet took a deep breath. "It doesn't make sense. The man has kept his son's bedroom impeccable for fourteen years. I saw it. He wouldn't just lose something so important to him. He might be bereaved but he isn't crazy – he seemed aware of what was going on around him. He just didn't think anyone would believe him. And he was right."

"Except he wasn't," Chief Vick spoke up.

"Chief?" Juliet cocked her head, unsure what the woman meant.

"You believe him, don't you?"

Juliet stared at her boss, the woman she so deeply desired to impress, the person who had the power to decide her future in the station, and found that despite her every urge to say the rational thing, she had to tell the truth.

"Yes. I believe him when he says it went missing." Juliet ran a hand through her hair. "I don't know what that means for this case, or if it means anything, or it I'm just going to help him find the bear but… yes. I believe him."

The chief studied her for a moment.

"I'm sure Detective Lassiter reminded you of the statistics regarding child abductions."

Juliet nodded. "He did. And yes, by all statistics, Shawn Spencer is dead." She forced herself to keep her voice even. "But that doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve justice for what happened to him."

Chief Vick looked at her evenly for a bit and Juliet felt all her confidence melt away under her boss's gaze.

She had basically told her that she believed a potentially crazy old man and wanted to reopen a cold case that was over a decade old, just weeks after transferring into this station as a junior detective.

This was the period where she was supposed to be keeping her head down and following all the rules, not breaking them.

"I'm sorry, I…" she opened her mouth to try to repair some of the damage she had just created.

"No," Chief Vick's response was quick and sharp, causing Juliet's heart to sink to her toes. _Here comes the reprimand…_ "I thought I told you not to downplay your hunches."

Juliet quickly looked up, finding a small smile on her chief's face. "You're… you're not upset?"

"Show me what you can do, O'Hara," was all the Chief said before walking to the door. She paused in the doorway, looking back. "Oh, and go home. Your shift ended hours ago."

Juliet waited until her boss was out of sight before she gathered up the file and headed out.

Beginning the drive home, Shawn Spencer's file sitting on her passenger seat, she spotted the lights of the travelling amusement park in the distance.

Impulsively, she turned onto the road leading to it.

She couldn't lie to herself any more; she had to admit that she wanted to see Juan again. There was something about his hazel eyes that haunted her, as if she had seen them before.

Maybe if she saw him again, even from a distance, she would finally be able to put him out of her mind.

* * *

 _ **Thanks again for reading and please let me know what you think!**_

 _ **ALSO: any ideas on where else I could post this fic? Not that I don't love FF, but only like 30 people saw this (not to downplay that but I'd love to extend my audience)**_

 _ **See you at the next chapter!**_

 _ **~silverlining**_


	3. The Ones We Protect

_**Thank you for the lovely reviews! I'm so happy that you're enjoying the story and I hope you continue to do so!**_

 _ **Okay ya'll, I have to confess that i am LOVING the chance to develop Juliet's character more - it's so fun! I'm truly having a great time writing this and hopefully you're having a great time reading it!**_

 _ **This chapter you finally get some info about how Shawn ended up where he is!**_

 ** _Thank you again and I can't wait to share more!_**

* * *

"You'd better think twice before you do that again!"

The butt of a gun slammed into his ribs, sending daggers of pain skittering across his body.

"Lay off, Rudd. We got what we wanted," Crow's voice, as usual, was a lazy drawl. "Besides, he knows what's at stake."

Memories flashed through his mind, faces he hoped he would never forget mixed with images he would give anything to never see again.

"Right Juan?" Crow's voice scattered the visuals that filled his mind and he nodded, one hand clutching his side.

"Stay out of my way next time," Rudd leaned close, his disgusting breath filling the small amount of space between them.

Between scouting out jewelry stores, they had stopped at a gang's hangout in the city, which was where Rudd spotted a young runaway. Rudd had almost convinced her to come back with them when he had scared her off.

"I'm sorry I got between you and your sick perversions," he said as sincerely as he could, not surprised when he was rewarded with a hard kick to the side.

Damn. His bruise was going to bruise.

Bruise-ception.

They were drawing near the amusement park, Charlie yelling at them from the front seat to shut up.

"We'll talk after closing hours," Rudd promised.

"Can't wait," he replied dryly, preparing to hop out of the van soon as it stopped. They wouldn't come after him during business hours.

"You're on cleaning duty. I see you talking to anybody around here and you know what happens," Crow warned as the vehicle slowed and the droning tinny carnival music grew louder around them.

"Don't worry. Nobody I knew would come out to this dump," he said and left the van, trying not to show how much his side was hurting him.

He headed straight for the food truck area – in his opinion, the only place in the whole mobile park that was of any quality. And that was because they didn't provide it; they just invited local trucks to come camp out in the evening and take advantage of the slightly larger-than-normal crowds of surly teenagers, hopeful young families, and drifting potheads that tended to congregate in the wake of their arrival.

Anyone who had anything better to do with their lives was busy doing that.

After picking up what seemed like the millionth used napkin, he wandered out to one of the benches at the edge of the park to take a break.

The crew was all busy running the rides so he knew he would be clear of being watched for a least a little bit.

As he relaxed in the darkness, a sudden scene flooded his mind, wrapping around his lungs and squeezing the air out of him.

 _"Can we keep him?"_

 _The closet was dark, tight, and hot._

 _"Absolutely not! What the hell were you thinking? You can't just take a random child!"_

 _"He's not random! He's special and… I just thought if he joined us, we'd be like a real family…"_

 _There was the sound of a slap._

 _"You thoughtless, worthless bitch. Haven't I taught you better? If you ever want to be Yang, you have to_ think _before you act and give up these foolish fantasies."_

 _The girl's voice was a whine, heavy with tears. "You take people all the time!"_

 _"Yes, adults. To kill them, not keep them! They will tear this place apart looking for the kid. He's a cop's son! We need to get rid of him as fast as possible."_

 _"Are you going to kill him?"_

 _"No. The less we have to do with him, the better." The man's voice paused before continuing with a more thoughtful tone. "You said he was special?"_

 _"Yes!" The girl spoke up excitedly. "He has a photographic memory and his dad trained him in police stuff. He's really smart."_

 _"Maybe we can get something out of this mess after all…" The man's voice came closer to the closet. "I have no use for him but that doesn't mean someone else might not. I know the perfect place for him... and they happen to have some goods that I want. I'll propose a trade – they could use someone with his skills. Best of all, they'll be gone by the end of the week and wont' be back for a long long time. If ever."_

 _"I wanted to keep him." The young woman sniffed._

 _"I know, pookie." The man's voice was sickeningly sweet. "Maybe next time, okay?"_

 _Footsteps approached the closet and his breath caught painfully in his chest._

 _Light flooded in and blinded him as the door opened and the last thing he saw was a rag soaked in something being thrust toward his face._

"Hey."

He startled, nearly jumping out of his skin, as a woman sat down beside him.

It was the police officer from the day before and the scene that played in his mind was only a flashback. He was in the present.

His blood ran ice cold for a moment then burned through his veins. Taking a quick glance one way then the other, he risked looking at her.

Her blue eyes seemed to peer right into his soul and he suddenly couldn't breath as he took in the way her hair shone in the flashing lights.

But what captivated him most was the intelligent glint in her eyes and soft smile that curved her lips slightly. He could tell she was kind, probably the type of woman who stop her car for a squirrel running across the road. And he bet that she could hold her own in any fight on top of that.

Nobody was around; if anybody approached, he would see them coming. Maybe… for a moment… he could just be a guy talking to girl.

He didn't exactly think, just opened his mouth.

"How's Belinda?"

* * *

It had taken roaming the entire crappy pop-up amusement park, but Juliet had finally found Juan on a bench in the shadowy outskirts just beyond the backs of the furthest tents. She almost missed him; only the fact that she was looking for him caused her to pause to do a double take of the shadowy form she spotted on the bench.

He had visibly jumped, staring at her in shock.

As he continued to stare, she felt something like disappointment stir; clearly he hadn't wanted to see her. There was no sign of the friendly bantering or strange intensity from earlier.

Maybe she should leave; it was honestly really creep that she had sought him out, and he was probably so weirded out…

All of a sudden, the man shook his head slightly, emotion flooding back into his expression as a smile spread across his face.

"How's Belinda?"

This time Juliet stared at him. It took her a moment to remember that was what he had called the stuffed unicorn he had given her.

"How does your cat like her?" he asked and she continued to stare at him, not knowing how he could have known that she had a cat. "Psychic, remember?" He tapped his temple. "So, did you remember to massage her hooves?" the man pressed, his eyes sparkling.

Laughter bubbled up in Juliet's chest, a light feeling accompanying the realization that the man remembered their conversation from the previous day in great detail.

"What would you say if I said that I did?" she asked, shifting slightly on the bench to face him more directly.

His eyes lit up, those fascinating, haunting, mischievous orbs trained intently on her.

"I would say that you are a woman who cares deeply for her horned friends. Goodness knows the booth has been so different since Belinda left. It's like a corndog without the breading…" He paused, face morphing into a look of intent thought that was only contrasted by the ridiculous words that followed. "Is a corndog still a corn dog without its breading? Of course not. But it's still delicious."

Juliet pondered that, nodding slowly as though seriously considering his words.

"I suppose you're right," she agreed. "Because it's what's on the inside that matters, right?"

His face lit up at her words, and she swore she could almost see the shadows around them lighten in the wake of the pure enthusiasm radiating from him.

"That's exactly right!" he exclaimed. "You are so correct. Because it's what on the inside that matters, like Twinkies and the white blankets of deliciousness between Oreo cookies…"

"Icing?" she supplied.

"Yes, icing would also fit with the metaphor, although it is generally on _top_ of cakes…" he paused to muse. "But you know what else shows that it's what's on the inside that matters?"

Juliet laughed and shook her head, inexplicably drawn to his adorable rambling.

"Fishing," he leaned forward, expression dead serious.

At some point in the conversation, they had moved closer to each other, to the point that they were almost touching.

"What about fishing?" Juliet breathed.

The man didn't break eye contact with her and she had the sudden feeling that he was memorizing the details of her face.

"Some old dude could waste his life fishing for hours and hours for what he could pick up in five minutes at the grocery store but he might still be a pretty cool guy."

Juliet mulled that over, nodding in agreement.

None of this made any sense and she absolutely loved it.

A wail of sirens far in the distance shattered the moment, and the man shifted away, a guarded look infiltrating his expression.

"What's the matter?" Concern filled her as he turned away from her.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" She wanted to take his hand because she felt irrationally comfortable with him even though in the real world they didn't even know each other.

"I don't even know your name," he glanced at her, seemingly thinking the same thing.

"I'm Juliet," she told him, although she could tell that wasn't really the reason he had withdrawn. "What's your name?"

She had never seen someone react with so much sorrow to that question; it seemed to emanate from his gaze.

"You can call me Juan," he said finally.

"Nice to meet you," she smiled, offering her hand. He took it and tingles ran up her arm.

"I should go." Juan pulled his hand away, standing up abruptly.

She stood as well.

"Is this…" She couldn't stop herself. "Is this about the warning you gave me yesterday?"

"It still stands," he turned back to her. "I… I shouldn't have talked with you. If someone sees…" He shook his head.

"Why? Why shouldn't you?" She was confused, unsure if she should be offended.

"Oh god, I don't mean it like that… it was so nice to meet you, Juliet. I love talking with you…" his face reddened ever so slightly.

She hid a smile.

"I like talking with you too. What if… what if we got coffee sometime?" Juliet suggested, heart suddenly racing in her chest as the words came from her mouth without permission.

 _What the hell was she doing?!_

Juan reacted as if bitten.

"I can't." He was literally backing away and she would be upset except the look in his eyes was one of fear. He stumbled slightly on the uneven ground and she caught the sudden wince and look of pain that crossed his face, one hand moving subtly to his right side.

"Please. I just want to help," she raised her hands pleadingly, examining his side and suddenly noting a faint stain on the dark fabric that could be blood. Her protective instincts reared their heads and she took a step forward. "Are you injured?"

"There's nothing to help me with," he jerked away and she saw the slight wince again.

"Juan, where the hell are you?" a voice called out and before Juliet could react, she was being pushed around the corner of the tent with a hissed warning not to come out and then Juan disappeared.

"I'm here." She heard his voice casually call out.

"You're supposed to be working."

"I was. The wind blew some of the trash out here. I didn't want us to get fined like last time." Juan's voice grew more distant and she could tell he was walking away from her.

The other voice mumbled something that Juliet couldn't hear.

They seemed to have a short conversation then all was silent and dark.

"You need to get out of here." She jumped at Juan's reappearance. The man grabbed her hand and started pulling her in the opposite direction his coworker had disappeared in. "You need to go. Right now.

"What is going on?" she hissed. "Juan!"

He paused and she suddenly realized that although she was alone in the dark with him in the middle of nowhere, she felt completely at ease.

"This was a mistake. All of it. Not you. But me – I'm not the type of guy you want to be friends with. Trust me. Just… stay away."

Annoyance mixed with frustration and concern filled her and she tugged him back as he tried to direct her away again. "I get to decide who I'm friends with," she informed him hotly, suddenly angry at the man's determination to remain mysterious and self-sacrificing attitude.

However her anger vanished as she saw how her movement caused the man to wince.

"For heavens sakes, I'm a cop, I know when people are injured," she ground out. "Let me see."

"No!" he nearly growled. "You need to get out of here! Go!"

Stung and confused by his harshness and refusal to let her in, she turned to leave.

"Wait."

She turned, raising her eyebrows incredulously that he had called her back moments after ordering her to leave.

"Wear a bullet proof jacket tomorrow. And… be safe. I'm sorry."

Slowly she nodded, completely confused at what he meant and why he was apologizing, but taking it as an olive branch.

Driving home, trying to process everything that had just happened, she decided that whether Juan wanted it or not, she would drop by to see him again the next day after work.

* * *

Rudd found him shortly after Juliet left and when he finally managed to drag himself into the incredibly lame bed they had given him years and years ago in the trailer he called home, he was overwhelmed by the emotions and pain hitting him from every side.

 _Juliet_.

The name suited her; she was someone that a person could write an entire book about. He was terrified by the way she made him feel in the very short amount of time he had spent with her.

When he was with her, he felt… normal.

And yet it was all a mistake; like the Shakespearean tale, this could only end in tragedy.

He needed to focus on what he was struggling to maintain already: keeping his friends and family safe while doing what he could from the position he was trapped in.

He had accepted long ago that this was his life; the criminal organization was too large and too deep. Like a hydra, if he considered cutting off one head, two more would spring back. There was no way to free himself from the entrapment that had been built around him for the past fourteen years.

It felt pathetic and disgusting to accept this traveling septic tank of crime as his future but what other choice did he have? There were no clear options to be considered that didn't put the ones he loved in danger.

After years and years apart, he had become more protective of them, taken the mental role of their protectors. His love had only grown with distance and time; they were the reason he kept going.

That and the handful of lives he had managed to save here and there, whether warning off runaways or even helping orchestrate bloodless robberies.

He knew if he wasn't there, Crow and the gang wouldn't stop robbing places. They would just be much more violent about it.

His mind strayed to the job that was going down the next day and he mentally re-analyzed the plan for the millionth time.

He had noticed the dog hair on the jewelry store owner's pants – that paired with the dog bowl in front of the store gave him a strong signal that he was a dog lover. The cameras, as often happened in amateur security set up, were set to monitor the front door, but not the back. However, the back door _was_ set with a key code, unfortunately for the store, the buttons of the four numbers used in the code were very slightly worn. That gave him the numbers, which he easily arranged into the year that the jewelry shop was founded – a number that was proudly boasted on the front sign.

He had, of course, taken this all in while doing a quick walk around the building with a hoodie and sunglasses. Staking the place out, he had noticed that there was a brief period between the assistants in the store – leaving a half-hour window right at noon when the storeowner was in the shop alone.

Some disguises, one faked dog emergency around the corner, and they were in. They would ignore the stuff in the cases – those were just asking to be rigged and impossible to get to. They would go instead to the repair section of the shop to take whatever jewelry was back there.

A couple thousand dollars in jewels was far better than a million and life jail sentence. Not that it mattered to him – all he cared about was making sure nobody got hurt.

Because Crow made sure all his people were heavily armed. Always. And if it came to it, they would kill someone.

He had taken it upon himself to make sure that didn't happen.

But the risk was always real and even more real was the fact that Juliet was a police officer and would get called if any security systems were tripped.

He _had_ to warn her, but in a way vague enough that she could never definitively connect anything to him. At least, not until he was already gone.

Their scheduled stay in Santa Barbara was a short one; Crow had business with affiliates in the area and then they all would move on and begin traversing all over the country.

He would probably never see Santa Barbara again.

But the farther he was, the safer the ones he loved were.

And that was what mattered.

However, recalling laughing with Juliet, imagining his parents' faces, remembering the times with his best friend… he couldn't help but wish for something different.

* * *

 _ **Omg poor Shawn right? He's doing his best. And poor Jules, she just wants to help.**_

 _ **Can't wait to write more and share it!**_

 _ **As always, let me know what you think!**_


	4. The Ones We Remember

_**Next chapter whoooooo who is excited?!**_

 _ **Obviously I am!**_

 _ **Thank you so much for the beautiful and thoughtful reviews. I feel greatly encouraged to continue and cannot wait to see how you all like the next installment!**_

* * *

"Tell me about him?"

Juliet sat, perched on the edge of a slightly ratty yet very comfortable couch.

Across from her, sitting back in the armchair, Henry Spencer took a deep breath and began to talk.

"Shawn is smart, incredibly smart. Nothing gets past him – he has an eidetic memory and heightened observational skills. I could walk into a restaurant with him, make him sit down and close his eyes, and ask him how many hats were in the room – and he would be able to tell me. Just those thirty seconds of walking in were enough for him to have a mental image of the entire room."

"Wow." Juliet blinked. This hadn't been in the boy's file. "Really?"

The older man nodded. "Really. He's an incredible boy." The retired officer tapped one hand against his knee absentmindedly. "I mean, he was a piece of work, don't get me wrong. Always up to mischief, far too smart for his own good… he sees the world in his own way. I… I tried to give him structure, tools to succeed…. He fought it, of course." Henry looked away suddenly, staring at something in the distance. "I guess I didn't give him enough though." Agony permeated his words. "I never thought…"

Unspoken words hovered around him.

"It's not your fault," Juliet breathed quietly, the sorrow in the air nearly suffocating.

Henry glanced at her.  
"Thank you for coming," he said softly. "It means a lot."

"Of course," Juliet said earnestly.

"I know everyone thinks I'm crazy…"

Juliet opened her mouth to protest that but he waved away her words. "You don't have to pretend they don't. Hell, sometimes _I_ think I'm crazy. I know the statistics as well as any other officer. But, I just have this gut feeling…" He looked at her "I taught him a lot of survival skills. If any kid could get through…" He couldn't finish that sentence. "Shawn is a fighter," he said instead. "One time we were backpacking and tripped and bashed his head in on a rock. But he just got up and kept walking, even as his head was gushing blood. He has a scar from it, right at his hairline," Henry's hand trembled slightly as he pointed to the spot on his own forehead the scar would be. "He's... he's a fighter."

Juliet bit her lip lightly at the man's use of present tense. "You've never given up on him," she observed quietly.

Henry shifted, gaze heavy and eyes piercing.

"How could I?" was all he said, shaking his head slowly. "How could I?"

* * *

"I found a partial print."

Juliet didn't even knock before barging into the office where Lassiter was talking to Chief Vick.

They both started, turning to look at her.

"I found a partial print at Henry Spencer's house, on the outside of the window sill to the boy's bedroom. I've cross-referenced it with Spencer's prints and it's not his. Someone who was not Henry Spencer was in that room." Juliet was breathless, adrenaline pumping through her veins. "He hasn't had anybody over in the past week or work done on the roof, so the print can't be from anybody he knows. And it has to be less than a week old because it's on the outside and it rained last Friday.

Lassiter's eyebrows shot up so high they were nearly lost under his dark hair. "Well I'll be damned…"

Chief Vick stood, a look of determination settling on her face. "Did you find any matches?"

"It's only a partial, but I'm having someone run it to see what we can find. Permission to send a team to scour the bedroom more thoroughly?"

"Granted," Chief Vick nodded. "If there's even a chance this could help us track down Shawn Spencer's abductor, I want every possible angle examined to bring that person to justice. Detective O'Hara and Lassiter, this is now your case." Chief Vick walked them to the door. "Keep me updated."

"We will," Juliet promised.

She could feel Lassiter's discomfort as they walked quickly down the hall to request a team to comb over the room.

"O'Hara." Lassiter stopped her suddenly and she felt a rush of apprehension fill her. She wouldn't blame the head detective if he was mad at her – she did go behind his back to continue investigating. It wasn't good of her as his partner, but she honestly didn't think he would have been on board.

"I owe you an apology," the detective rumbled, his voice low.

This was quite the week of surprises.

Lassiter continued. "You were right. We should have looked around, and if this leads us to any closure on what happened to Shawn Spencer… I would never forgive myself if my… my…" he struggled for a word. "…my stubbornness had prevented that."

"Thank you," Juliet cocked her head, truly impressed that he had apologized. "I accept your apology. If we work together, I think we have the best chance at finding something."

"Agreed." The tall detective nodded. "And hopefully, I'll get to shoot somebody."

Juliet rolled her eyes at that and they continued down the hall.

"An armed robbery just got called in," an officer stopped them. "It sounds like they had some serious firearm power, according to a witness."

"Do we need to head to the scene?" Lassiter snapped to attention, their earlier bantering immediately forgotten.

"Nobody was hurt but they had a clean getaway and are still at large Just wanted to let you know that there are heavily armed criminals out there – be careful. Maybe put on some bullet proof jackets before heading out," the officer suggested.

"Thank you." Juliet took in the information.

 _"Wear a bullet proof jacket tomorrow. And… be safe."_ Juliet could suddenly hear Juan's voice in her head.

 _Coincidence_ , she tried to dismiss it.

Juan's warning could have had to do with anything – it wasn't uncommon to tell an officer to be safe; their lives were on the line every day. It had to be random.

But her gut was telling her otherwise.

* * *

"Next stop, LA!"

A great cheer went through the crew as they raised their beers, the dark space under the haunted house lit up with industrial lights. Alcohol and soft drugs were ready at hand as they began preparing the latest shipment for transport. Deals had been made, trades agreed upon, and a very successful jewelry robbery was the cherry on top. They would be in town for two more nights, delivering on their promises to the local gangs, then they would move onward.

He stood separate from the crew, watching their rough revelry. They had brought some prostitutes in from town and he had to turn away from the graphic displays of desire.

Still, Crow guarded the shipment with a couple other designated men, machine guns slung over their shoulders and held ready in front of them. They were not there to play – they were there to kill anybody who would even consider double crossing them or dipping into the haul. They ran a tight, ruthless gig, and that was why they were successful.

His body still aching from his encounter with Rudd the night before, he leaned against one of the support pillars and tried to get comfortable. All the exits would be guarded until they opened for the evening, so he was stuck.

As his eyes closed, another sudden flashback hit him.

 _"I want to go home!" His small hands were curled into fists even as his back was against the wall of the trailer. "My dad is going to find you and…"_

 _He had to squint at the form in the doorway because his eyes hadn't seen light in so long; it had been nothing but darkness around him and the sensation of movement beneath him._

 _"Shush now," the man cut him off. "Your daddy ain't never gonna to find you, you gotta accept that."_

 _"He will!" His cry was desperate._

 _"He ain't, kid. But it's gonna be okay. I'll look out for you here." The man took a step forward and tossed something at his feet._

 _It was a granola bar and a water bottle, wrapped in a blanket._

 _He looked up at the man, face streaked with tears._

 _"Rest up kid, we got a long haul ahead of us. I'll be stoppin' by and startin' to teach you whatcha need to know. The crew here, they're gonna want you to do stuff for them with that fancy mind of yours."_

 _"I don't understand," he shook his head, trying to keep his voice even. "What do they want?"_

 _"Let's start with money." The man tossed him a stack of bills and a flashlight. "The one on top is real; you figure out whether the rest are or not."_

 _The man turned to leave but paused in the doorway._

 _"You'll be okay, kid. They ain't gonna touch you, leave it to me."_

 _"Wait!" he called out. "What's your name?"_

 _He didn't want the door to close yet, didn't want to be trapped in the dark again with nothing but his mind in hyper drive, analyzing every movement, every sound, replaying memory after memory after memory…_

 _"Call me Blue," the man's tan, slightly wrinkled face creased into a faint smile._

 _"I'm Shawn," he said bravely._

 _"I know kid. But we can't call you that."_

 _He stared at him, confused. "Why not?"_

 _"We gotta think of something that sounds close enough but nobody will put the two together… I know. We'll call you Juan."_

"Juan!"

Jerking back to reality, he struggled to calm his breathing.

Rudd was leaning over him, leering. "Crow wants you to take a look at the latest arrival of bills."

He nodded blearily, forcing his stiff body to move even as Rudd kicked him, sending more pain flaring through his body.

It had been awhile since he had experienced flashbacks and it took several moments for him to regain his bearings.

 _Bearings_.

 _Bear._

He suddenly remembered that he had tucked his teddy bear into one of the storage boxes, the image lighting up his mind with its familiarity.

He found it and stuffed it under his jacket before heading over to check over the latest payment for counterfeits.

It was most likely the last piece of home he would ever have.

* * *

 _Tap tap tap tap tap…_

Furiously Juliet's fingers ran over the keyboard of her computer as she did some quick research.

Strictly speaking, this probably wasn't exactly within the bounds of what she should be searching, but she needed answers about Juan's travelling amusement park – Fun Times, she faintly remembered the sign reading.

Strangely, Juliet couldn't track them far – legally they were less than a year old. But looking at the state of the equipment and run down feeling, Juliet highly doubted that. In addition, she was slowly putting together a trail of similar travelling parks that would be registered for a year and then disappear – with a newly registered one appearing in a city over.

Thoroughly curious, Juliet excused herself and quickly found an empty room. She pulled out her phone and called the owner of the lot that the park was renting – it had been fairly easy to find with some quick googling.

"Hello?" a raspy voice answered the phone after only a couple rings.

"Hi, I have a question about your property," Juliet cradled the phone to her ear.

"Sure, what's up?"

Juliet took a deep breath. "Oh, I just love the park that is there right now. I was wondering how you got in contact with them to come? I'd love to know when they'll come again."

 _God she hated lying. She didn't even believe herself._

"That's sweet, honey," the voice rasped, clearly amused. "They found me. I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it because I was hesitant to let them use the space… those things can be so dirty. But they said they'd used it before. I checked the records and sure enough, it was on the logs. Glad I let them come if it's helping the community."

Juliet's heart beat slightly faster. _Fun Times was only a year old…_

"Really? That's so great they were here before, I wonder if I was there when I was a kid… Do you happen to know the dates? I'd love to know. My mom would be so tickled if I was."

There was a slight pause on the other end and ruffling noise of papers being shifted around.

"Sure thing, honey. I still have it out. Looks like they were here…. October 10th to the 15th, 2002. Long time ago."

Juliet's mouth went dry and she was momentarily unable to respond.

"Oh okay, thank you!" she managed to force out. "I guess I wasn't there but that would have been fun. Thanks for your help."

"No problem. You have a good day now."

"Thanks, you too."

She hung up, mind spinning.

It had to be coincidence, right? Because there was no way there was a connection between the amusement park and her case. She had just been staring at the dates too long, spent too much time reading the file…

"What are you doing?"

Juliet's heart jumped into her mouth as she spun to find her tall partner standing in the doorway.

"Lassiter," she gasped. "Don't sneak up on me!"

His brow was furrowed, lips pursed. "What are you doing?" he repeated.

"Carlton, I think I found a crazy connection," she began. "You know the travelling amusement park that is in town?"

"The run down crappy one in the empty lot?" the head detective raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, that one!" Juliet said excitedly. "Well, I just called the owner of the lot to ask how they got in touch with them and they said they were here before, _fifteen years ago._ "

Carlton Lassiter just stared at her blankly. "And this is important because…."

" _Because_ …" Juliet was actually pacing the room. "Because they were here from October 10th to October 15th, 2002. October 14th, 2002 was the day that Shawn Spencer went missing. And the very next day, a visiting traveling amusement park left town. And when it finally comes back, fifteen years later and under a new name, Henry Spencer's house is broken into."

Lassiter's expression changed from one of confusion to excitement. "They might be connected!"

"It's at least something," Juliet agreed.

"Excellent work, O'Hara." Lassiter was already striding to the door.

"Wait!" Juliet suddenly realized that her partner intended to go straight to the park and interrogate everyone.

 _Juan._

Based on the way he acted, he was scared of any interference into whatever the situation was, even though she had a suspicion that he was getting hurt. She didn't want to make things worse for him by waltzing around in police uniforms… And they needed more information anyways. Based on Juan's hints, the park was more dangerous than it seemed; they couldn't just walk in. It was too rash.

"What are you waiting for, O'Hara? Let's go!" Lassiter said impatiently.

"This is… this is a sensitive situation," she stumbled for words. "I have reason to believe that the park might be dangerous."

That caught the head detective's attention. "What?"

Juliet closed her eyes briefly, really not wanting to share about Juan and their interactions but knowing that she needed to.

"I kind of have an informant… of sorts."

* * *

 ** _We are getting close to a point of confrontation! Yay!_**

 ** _Let me know what you think!_**

 ** _~catlover1033_**


	5. The Ones We Seek

_**This is a LONG chapter for ya'll! I hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

He tried to soak up every ounce of the Santa Barbara air while he could, relaxing in the shadows of the game booths that nobody was playing. Given the state of his face, he'd been ordered to stay out of sight and out of trouble. So he had settled for people watching from his dark corner.

For some reason, he didn't experience the usual joy at observing people walk by. As he scanned the park, he realized that he wasn't actually watching; he was looking for something.

Someone, actually.

Juliet.

With every fiber of his being, he simultaneously hoped that she would and would not come to the park.

The would-not feelings were clear; it was dangerous and he needed to preserve the perilous balance of his situation as Crow loomed closer and closer with threats. If he pushed, he didn't doubt some of those threats would come to fruition.

But a part of him also _wanted_ Juliet to come, and those feelings were far more muddled and unfamiliar. He couldn't get the sound of her voice out of his head, couldn't get his mind to stop replaying her melodic laugh and the tingle that had rushed through him when their hands hand touched.

He was seriously starting to get worried that he was obsessed.

 _It's just a side-effect of my crappy life_ , he told himself. He was just looking for a distraction from the hopelessness that saturated his being. And she had only paused to talk to him because she was a kind soul, far too kind for this horrible world.

She was an angel and he worked for the devil.

He settled back into the shadows and closed his eyes.

He had to stop looking for her because she could never find him.

* * *

"I heard there was an update on the Spencer case?"

Juliet stifled the huff of frustration she wanted to release as she took in the man standing uneasily before them. Next to her, Lassiter put his car keys back in his pocket.

They were literally _seconds_ away from heading to the amusement park. Juliet didn't want to pause, didn't want to stop and talk to this nervous looking man, didn't want to waste anymore time because Juan was at that park and she didn't know what was going on there but she needed to know he was safe.

Still, she stopped, because this was her job and Juan was not.

"Who are you?" Lassiter was asking bluntly and Juliet forced herself to tune into the conversation.

"Burton Guster," the man tilted his chin up slightly. "You can call me Gus though, all my friends do…"

"How do you know about the update in the case, Mr. Guster?" Lassiter cut him off.

"Mr. Spencer told me," Gus explained, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I was… am…" he paused, seemingly confused for a moment on what verb tense to use, "… I am Shawn's best friend. So, what is the update? Did… did you find anything more?"

Despite her initial reluctance to engage, Juliet's heart went out to the man at the look of hope mixed with fear in his expression.

"Mr. Guster," Juliet chimed in, taking a deep breath as Burton Guster's dark eyes quickly glued themselves to her. "Right now we don't have enough information to definitively share anything. But as soon as we do, we will let you know."

They started moving toward the door again but the man blocked them.

"You can't just leave me hanging like this!" he protested, mahogany skin creasing into a deep frown. "If you know something about the case, you have to tell me! I've… I've been waiting for fifteen years." Gus's face crumpled.

Juliet instantly regretted her impatience. "I'm so sorry." She touched the man's arm lightly as Lassiter shifted uncomfortably behind her. "We're doing our best, Gus, but we really don't have much right now. I'm really sorry."

Gus fiercely wiped at his eyes. "It's okay, I know... I'm sorry too, I just…" He shook his head, raising a hand to cover his mouth as emotion overtook him. "I just think about if it were me… Shawn, he never would stop looking for me. At the surface, he seemed really goofy and immature, but underneath all that, he always put others before himself. It took me awhile to understand that because he was always hiding the things he did for me. But after he went missing, it all started coming out." Gus smiled faintly. "He beat up a bully for me and I never even knew because he hid the injuries from me. He was a stubborn idiot. But he tried to protect me in his own way."

Gus's dark eyes found Juliet's face once again. "Please," he said quietly. "He deserves justice."

But Juliet could only stare straight through him as her mind churned with thoughts.

It was random, so random.

But as Gus shared that story about Shawn hiding his injuries, her thoughts had gone straight to the situation with Juan at the park.

The park that possibly could be connected with Shawn's disappearance… that same park.

She couldn't help but draw parallels.

 _Goofy. Observant. Stubborn. Protective._

This was crazy. This was way too crazy.

Juliet tried to stop herself but before she could realize what she was doing, she had pulled Shawn Spencer's missing poster off the bulletin board.

"What are you…" Both Lassiter and Gus stared at her with bewilderment, but she ignored them both, focusing all her energy instead on the aged paper in her hands.

Hadn't she felt like those hazel eyes were haunting her?

There was no way.

Right?

 _Right?_

She clutched the poster, the paper crinkling slightly in her hands.

"O'Hara, what is going on?" Lassiter demanded.

There was only one way to know for sure.

"I need to get to that park."

* * *

He had just decided to go lie down and let his aching body rest when he saw her.

She was in jeans and a light blue top that he knew would bring out the color in her eyes if he were close enough to see them.

 _Juliet._

Something about her pace was different; she was purposeful in her strides yet cautious. The wind blew and her top pressed against her right side for a moment and he very briefly caught the outline of a gun.

 _Oh god, what was she doing?_

One of her hands went to her ear and her mouth moved very slightly.

She was undercover.

Terror filled him and he quickly scanned the crowd for a sign that Juliet had caught any of the crew's attention.

There wasn't anybody in sight and he had to remind himself that he was usually the one who picked out undercover cops for them. It was just one of the many ways they twisted his "skills" to their own sick purposes. He weakly tried to justify the actions by telling himself that it was the only way to save their lives but he knew at the same time that he was enabling the crew's criminal trade.

They were good at weaving traps around him like that, ensnaring other's lives, to the point that he could only do what they wanted him to.

But this was different; Juliet _knew_ him. He had talked to her and he knew she wouldn't fall for being led astray by a crew member, which was what they usually did when people were investigating them.

Maybe he could stall. They were leaving soon, if he could just get her not to do anything until then… well, whatever the reason was for her to be there, they would be out of jurisdiction. And that meant paperwork and turf wars and even more time for them to move out of suspicion.

They had done it before. They could do it again.

"Juan."

She had spotted him; there was no running now. He kept his position in the shadows, head ducked, as she approached.

Her golden hair bounced around her face, blue eyes filled with concern. He didn't deserve her concern when it was him who had put her in danger.

"Hey," she said quietly, putting down a couple dollars onto the counter. "Can I play this game?"

It was the target game where they had first met. He knew she was trying to talk to him without looking suspicious; he just didn't know if it was for her benefit or his.

At this point, probably both.

He switched on the power and the booth sprang into life with lights flashing and cheesy music playing as the targets lit up.

"Oh my god, Juan, what happened?" Juliet's eyes widened with concern and it took a moment for him to remember that he had been hiding his face for a reason.

He didn't forget things… yet she somehow managed to fill his mind so completely, he couldn't think of anything else.

"I…" he struggled for words as her hand reached out to his face, her soft touch brushing over dried blood and bruised skin.

"I'm taking you with me," she hissed and suddenly her eyes were filled with a look of protectiveness.

"No!" He jerked back, pulling his hoodie over his head. "You can't." _People will die. People I love. You could die._

"You aren't here because you want to be, I can tell," she whispered, her eyes searching his face. "They're hurting you. Why? What is happening here? I can help."

He shook his head.

 _"Please,"_ he begged. "Please." He didn't even know what he was begging her for.

" _Juan._ "

He almost caved in at the care in her voice but fought to stay emotionally distant. He had to be strong.

"Why are you here?" he changed the topic, his voice unnecessarily harsh. "I told you not to come here." _Can't you see I'm dangerous?_

Juliet's expression flashed with something like hurt before she composed herself.

"I want to ask you something, _need_ to ask you before my partner comes in here and interrogates your coworkers…"

He could tell she was holding back, that her question was for him and him alone but he couldn't linger on that as pure fear filled him at the prospect of them confronting the crew. "Your partner can't do that! He can't, that… that would be…." He couldn't even finish that sentence.

Her partner would die. She would die.

"Then promise you'll answer my question," Juliet pressed, her hand finding his and gently moving on top of it. "No running, okay? You're safe."

"What is your question?" he asked, mentally preparing to hear an inquiry about drugs or weapons or gangs.

But she asked the one thing he was not prepared to hear, ever,

He felt the blood drain from his face as her words repeated in his mind and his world tilted.

 _"Are you Shawn Spencer?"_

* * *

Juliet watched as Juan's face visibly paled at her question, his haunting hazel eyes staring at her in shock from behind the bruises and cuts that littered his face. His expression was the confirmation she needed.

 _The man in front of her was Shawn Spencer._

Lassiter's voice filled her ear, disrupting the silence. _"What's going on O'Hara? What did he say?"_

Juan was Shawn Spencer.

She was right.

She had found him.

She couldn't believe it.

Her hand reached out and brushed the hair on his forehead back, revealing a small white scar at his hairline. _"One time we were backpacking and tripped and bashed his head in on a rock. But he just got up and kept walking, even as his head was gushing blood. He has a scar from it, right at his hairline…"_ Henry Spencer's voice echoed in her mind.

Shawn's hand caught hers, grasped it tightly and slowly lowered it from his face.  
"You have to go," he said quietly, urgently. "Right now. It's not safe."

"No," she refused, not understanding why he wouldn't come with her. He was the victim. "You're… You're Shawn Spencer."

In her ear, Lassiter swore incredulously. _"Holy shit, really? Really?! I'm coming…_ "

Juliet touched her earpiece. "Lassiter, stay put, the situation is far too fragile. I think that people are armed here. I'm going to try to get Spencer out without anyone noticing."

Shawn recoiled at her words to her partner.

"You will die, he will die, my family will die," the man gasped, grasping her shoulders. "You need to leave and never come back."

"Shawn." She took his hand again. "You were kidnapped as a _child_ and… and… we found you! Don't you understand, you're safe now. This is finally going to be over, you can come home…"

Tears filled his eyes.  
"Juliet," he said quietly, and she could barely stand the pain in his expression. "This isn't over, it never will be."

"Shawn." She squeezed his hand gently. "Come with me, we'll figure this out, we'll figure all this out. But _please,_ first let me get you to safety."

"Juan!" a voice called out, laced with urgency. "Juan, get over here right now!"

"Coming, Crow!" Shawn turned his head and called out. "One second."

"Shawn, you can't…" Juliet grasped his hand, refusing to let go, unable to understand why he was acting the way he was. "You can't just…"

"Stay here," Shawn pulled his hand from hers and lifted part of the counter in order to pull her into the booth. "Get down, and whatever you do, _don't come out._ They are heavily armed, okay? They are weapons and drug dealers and they will not hesitate to kill." His voice was taut with urgency. "If your partner shows up here with a gun, innocent people will die in the crossfire. Find your partner and _get out._ "

Shivers ran down Juliet's spine as she processed Shawn's words and slowly realized that they were out of their depth. In the distance she could hear people laughing, a child calling out, civilians enjoying themselves…

She couldn't risk their lives.

They would have to come back in order to take down the crew of the park.

Meanwhile, Shawn was pulling away from her.

"Shawn!" Juliet moved to follow him but crouched down to hide despite herself at the sight of a tall man rounding the corner. She couldn't aggravate the situation.

Shawn was already jumping over the counter. "I'm here, Crow."

"Could have told me that five minutes ago!" Juliet heard the voice that had called out for Juan earlier.

"Yeah, sorry, I was lost in thought…" Shawn sounded different as he talked to the other man – he was quieter, more timid.

"We think an unmarked cop car pulled up," the first man hissed quietly. "Get your ass in the van and don't come out. Rudd is taking you out of town."

 _Damn it, Lassiter!_

"What are you going to do?" Shawn's reply held an element of nervousness. "I doubt they have any information. You're just going to lead them off, right?"

"You know I'll do whatever I have to. Now go!"

"Wait, man, they don't know anything. Just let them walk away, okay? You don't have to hurt anybody." Shawn didn't seem concerned about himself, instead still focused on what the crew would do to the officer if they found him.

"You worried because your daddy was a cop?" The words were taunting. "Maybe I'll pay him a visit before we leave, huh? Now let's go, I'll throw you into the van myself!"

Juliet shifted in her hiding place. She couldn't let them take Shawn, not again. If he got in that van… they may never find him again.

So she made her decision.

"Step away from him!" she sprung out of her hiding spot. "Hands in the air where I can see them!"

The two men spun to look at her. In an instant, the taller one had pulled Shawn in front of him, arm tightening around his neck.

"Let him go!" Juliet ordered, holding her gun steady even as sweat accumulated on the back of her neck. She couldn't risk a shot and he knew it. "Lassiter, I need back up. _Now._ I'm in the section of the park with the game booths…"

"Juliet, look out!" Shawn gasped out and Juliet spun to find a form creeping up behind her.

"Stay back!" she warned, heart jumping to her throat as she realized she was rapidly losing control of the situation.

Somewhere in the park, a shot rang out and screams filled the air.

"Put your weapon down, or I swear I will blow his brains out."

She turned partially, trying to keep her sights on the threats on both sides of her. Her blood ran cold when she saw that the tall man now was holding a gun to Shawn's head.

Shawn was shaking his head at her, hazel eyes clouded with agony. "Don't do it Juliet," he rasped.

Juliet tightened her grip on the gun for a moment, weighing her options.

She couldn't allow Shawn to be hurt.

So she let go.

"Juliet, no!"

A searing pain erupted in her head and the world went black.

* * *

 ** _Cliffy!_**

 ** _I'll try not to keep you all hanging for too long._**

 ** _In the meantime, let me know what you think! Seriously, your comments mean so much to me!_**

 ** _~catlover1033_**


	6. The Ones We Find

_**Oh my. I am very late at update this and I apologize sincerely. And thank you to all who reviewed and nicely reminded me to update.**_

 _ **The good news: I have a couple chapter's worth of material written up!  
The bad/neutral news: I still haven't decided how all this will end...**_

 _ **Alright, enough of that - you've been waiting so long to read this chapter, let's not delay any longer!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Psych, in case you haven't noticed.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

There were many, many times that Shawn wished he didn't have a photographic memory.

This moment was right at the top of the list.

His mind wouldn't stop replaying the scene: Juliet's bright eyes dimming as they rolled back, her body twisting slightly from the force of the hit, the slight bounce as her body hit the ground…

He had screamed with a voice he didn't have, futilely fought against Crow's strong arms around his throat.

But it had been useless.

Beneath him, the vehicle skidded into motion. He distracted himself from whatever was ahead by scouring every single second of the past fifteen minutes and earmarked each mistake he had made.

 _This was all his fault._

There were so many things he could have done. He could have pushed Juliet away from the start. He could have forced her to leave. He could have just kept his distance.

But he hadn't.

He saw it again: her eyes dimming, body twisting, limp limbs hitting the ground…

He had failed and Juliet had fallen.

"Goddamn it!" His scream was hoarse, bruised throat aching as he banged the lid of the trunk above him. All the frustration and fury inside him overflowed and he lifted his fists to pummel them against the unmoving metal above.

He couldn't feel anything except the swirl of his emotions – not the aggravation of his previous injuries or the blood that began to trickle down his knuckles.

They had taken Juliet in the other car; he knew they would rendezvous at the van hidden at the edge of town. He had helped _make_ these escape plans. And now they would take an innocent person to her demise.

The only thing he could do as he waited was steel every bit of his resolve to be ready to do whatever it would take to make things right.

No matter what.

* * *

The world was swimming and in the depths of pain and nausea, Juliet felt as though she were drowning.

Slowly she tried to pry her eyes open but everything was askew and dim. Fighting the urge to throw up, she squeezed her eyes shut and worked on breathing through her nose.

All of a sudden strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her up and Juliet tried not to panic over the fact that she had no control over her movement.

 _Stay calm. Stay calm._

Juliet was still trying to sort out what was going on when she was deposited on a cool metal floor. It felt good against her pounding head and for a moment she just let the chill of it seep into her skin. But she couldn't just lie there forever, as much as she might want to.

Swallowing hard, Juliet tried to ease her body into a sitting position. As she went to brace her hands against the floor, she was surprised to find they were tightly fastened together behind her back.

 _What?_

She attempted to twist her hands, testing the give, to find that the binds were tight and secure.

There was a burst of sound above her, vaguely familiar voices hammering into her skull and she curled in on herself as wave of nausea swept over her. Then someone was shoved next to her and the sound of voices was replaced with a slam and the revving of an engine.

"Jules, please… talk to me. Are you awake?" This voice was soft and soothing, tinted with a slight rasp. Irrationally she felt her body relax at the sound. _Juan._

Wait no.

Juan was Shawn. And he was in danger. This was not the time to take a nap. "Shawn?" She forced herself to open her eyes. She couldn't make out much; it was still pitch black.

"Oh my god, Jules," Shawn's voice was saturated with concern. "Hey, hey, you're okay."

Groaning, she finally managed to sit up.

"Shawn, where are you?" She blinked at the darkness. "Are you hurt?" She reached out with her bound hands behind her, searching the murkiness in her very limited range. Her hands hit rough fabric.

"That's my knee." Shawn sounded amused. "I'm not sure this is an appropriate setting for Seven Minutes in Heaven."

Despite the circumstances, Juliet felt her cheeks heat up and she swatted Shawn's knee lightly. "Are your hands free? Maybe we can get these ropes off."

Shawn sighed. "Unfortunately, Crow loves tying people to the van's back door. It kinda discourages trying to open the back door to escape while still in motion."

Juliet's stomach twisted slightly at that. "Can you get out of them?"

"Too tight," Shawn's voice was heavy with defeat. "These guys… they don't play. If you had anything sharp on you, it won't be there anymore. They know all the tricks."

A shiver ran down Juliet's spine and she noted that her watch was gone.

"Speaking of heads and hair, how's yours? Head, I mean. I assume your hair is as fabulous as always."

She nearly laughed at that but the truth was that the pain radiating from her head was nearly debilitating.

"It's…" she paused. "It's not great."

"Just stay awake, okay? You're not feeling sleepy, are you?" His voice was impossibly tender and she could almost physically feel her heart warm at it.

"I won't fall asleep on you," she promised. Every fiber of her being was exhausted but she also knew the signs and dangers of a concussion.

Beneath them, the van slowed slightly.

"What's happening?" she whispered. "What are they doing with us?" She absentmindedly noted how ridiculously long it had taken her to realize the need for that pressing question.

She must have been hit pretty hard. Thinking in general felt like wading through a pool of dryer lint.

"They're going to find a hidden place to stop to change the license plate and put a decal on the sides of the van."

It took Juliet a really long time to process that information.

"That's very smart," she said finally.

"And very bad for us," Shawn added grimly.

A couple turns then the car stopped. Doors slammed, the muted sound of people moving around the car bleeding in through the van sides.

"What are they going to do with us?" Juliet asked quietly, trying to focus on the current situation even as the heavy pounding of her head competed fiercely for her attention.

It was quiet for a moment, Shawn's silence deafening.

"I… I don't know." When he finally spoke he sounded scared and lost. "It's… it's not going to be good."

How many times had this man been forced to travel in this van to an unknown fate? What hell had he gone through those many years after he was taken?

There was so much she didn't know.

All she had was a name from a missing person poster.

Shawn Spencer.

She had no idea who Shawn Spencer really was beyond that wrinkled piece of paper and aged police file.

But if she didn't find a way out of this soon, Shawn Spencer was never going to make it off the missing persons' board.

Resolve sharpened Juliet's focus. "I'm going to get you out of here," she promised.

Doors slammed and the car started again.

"Juliet." Shawn's voice was low. "This is all my fault. And I will do everything I can to make it right."

"Shawn." She didn't know what he was talking about. "This isn't your fau…"

"It is." He cut her off, a harsh rasp hugging his words.

She was about to protest when the van screeched around turn and Juliet was thrown against the side of the van. Pain flared from its barely tolerable level to screaming agony as her head collided with something hard.

Far too tired to try to keep swimming through the roaring waves of pain, Juliet pondered letting herself sink into the darkness.

"….Jules…. Juliet… Juliet…."

Faintly she heard Shawn's voice calling out and it gave her just enough energy to stay afloat.

Until Shawn was safely home with his family, her work was not done.

* * *

"Shawn…"

Juliet's shuddering voice caused a huge rush of relief to wash over him.

"Jules, are you okay?" Even as Shawn said it he wanted to kick himself. Of course she wasn't okay.

"…yeah." Her voice was soft.

"Just stay awake, okay?" He was almost pleading with her. Part of him wondered if it was because he couldn't bear to be alone with his agonizing guilt.

"I think…" Juliet's voice was slightly stronger. "I think we need to make a plan to get out of here."

He desperately wished he still had the hope she did.

"I don't think we can."

His words hung in the dark air and for a moment Shawn could almost see them hovering like black holes, absorbing everything good, leaving only lives in shambles.

Because what else was there?

Something in the depths of his dark being stirred and a part of him acknowledged that the only thing he could hope for was that he would be dead before having to watch another life be destroyed.

Because God knew he wasn't strong enough to see anyone else be hurt.

"Shawn." Juliet's voice was firm, demanding his attention. "Listen to me. There is always a way."

He couldn't see her but if he could he knew her eyes would be shining with resolve.

She was a light that refused to be extinguished. She had faith and he had a mind pocked with grief.

"There is always a way," Juliet repeated, so confidently that he imagined her words encountering his black hole and squashing it.

If a black hole could be squashed that was… it seemed that maybe there was some flawed physics going on there. But did he care?

Not one little bit.

Because just the tiniest drop of hope had hit the dry soil of his being. And who can say what one drop could do?

"Shawn, did you hear me?"

He noted the concern in Juliet's voice and was overwhelmed by the fact that she was everything he desired but could never deserve.

"I heard you."

He needed to stop freaking out and do what he did best. Surely there was some clue, some tool they could use…

"Give me a second," he said, closing his eyes and pulling up the image of the last time he was in the van. Painstakingly he poured over memory after memory, connected pieces and tied threads between seemingly meaningless moments.

Dislodged from where it had been deeply buried, his father's voice rang in his ears. " _How many hats?"_

" _None. There are no hats. There is no way out."_ His hands clenched into fists.

" _Focus Shawn! How many hats?"_ His dad's voice was insistent and Shawn took a deep breath.

Details jumped out at him. _Spots of rust, changing a tire, a screwdriver, a screw, the van turning, the thin groove alongside the wall, things rolling, tools, a tool box, taking things out, putting them away, a dead leaf…_

" _Nothing, Dad. There's nothing!"_ He clenched his jaw and his teeth groaned under the pressure.

" _Well, think harder!"_

 _The van turning, the thin groove alongside the wall, things rolling, tools, a tool box, taking things out, putting them away, a dead leaf, the car turning, something rolling, a screw, a screw rolling, the thin groove, a dead leaf…_

And suddenly it was clear.

"Jules," he gasped quietly, opening his eyes. "There's a screw that rolled into the groove along the side of the van wall. There are some dead leaves that got tracked in, it's under them, to the left…"

"Okay, let me try to find it," Juliet whispered and he could hear her shifting in the dark.

The next couple seconds were torture.

"Did you find it?" he couldn't help but ask even though he knew she would tell him if she found it.

"Still looking," she murmured and he caught the edge of pain in her voice.

"How's your head?" he asked. The detective seemed more alert now but Shawn figured she was still pretty out of it.

"Eh." He could almost see her noncommittal shrug. "Are you sure this screw is here?"

"It's there." He had to believe it.

"I don't feel anything… oh wait." Juliet paused and Shawn heard the rustling of dead leaves. "Okay, here are leaves…. Got it!"

He almost fainted with relief.

"Do you think it's sharp enough to wear down the rope?"

"It will have to be."

Juliet's determination was so palpable that he could almost snatch it from the air and cradle it in his hands.

He didn't have anything else to hold onto, so he held onto that.

* * *

 _ **Thank you again to my beautiful reviewers who encouraged me to update! Honestly, it was very effective.**_

 _ **Also, special shout out to Kittycat57 for totally predicting what would happen! (And after it had already been written! That, my friends, is a true psychic gift)**_

 _ **I'll try to update more frequently! If you are getting antsy, drop a review to bug me, I respond well to nagging lol**_

 _ **Until then!**_

 ** _~catlover1033_**


	7. The Ones We Defend

_**Hello!**_

 _ **Thank you for the wonderful & inspiring reviews! I always can't wait to see what you all will think of chapter. This story has been so fun and I am really glad that you all are on the journey with me!**_

 _ **Shout out to my beautiful amazing beta,** **Koohii Kappu *hearts***_

 _ **Hope you enjoy this chapter!**_

 _ **Let's get ya'll started with some Lassie *cheers***_

* * *

The world was rapidly falling to pieces.

Not literally, of course, although Carlton Lassiter thought he might actually prefer that. At least he would know what to do if that were happening. He had considered what he would like his last minutes on the planet to look like and decided that the best way to go would be guns blazing, delivering sweet sweet justice to the perps who had slipped through the legal system.

But this… this was the worst type of chaos possible. There was no clear path of action, no target to shoot at. Instead he had a missing criminal, a missing partner, and a missing missing-person.

The thing with missing people was it often took a lot of waiting to find them. Waiting for tips, lab results, traffic footage... It all took time and time was not something they had.

"Move!" the detective roared as an oblivious officer blocked his path to the temporary base they had set up around the crime scene at the carnival. The officer scurried away and Lassiter didn't even feel a hint of satisfaction at his inferior's terrified flight.

"Lassiter, give me an update," Chief Vick motioned for him. Her face held a tight expression, lips pressed together in a straight hard line.

"Yes Chief," Lassiter followed her as she continued toward the taped off crime scene. Officers, forensics, basically everyone on the force was roaming around. "After the confrontation between O'Hara and the worker who might be Shawn Spencer, O'Hara asked me to stay put…"

"Did you?" Chief Vick glanced at him.

He faltered, swallowing hard. "O'Hara suggested there might be heavily armed individuals so I moved in to provide backup."

The Chief's eyes were like cold icicles, piercing and freezing him.

"A couple minutes later, O'Hara made an urgent request for backup," Lassiter pressed forward. "I, of course, tried to make my way into the carnival to assist and called in for further backup as well."

They paused next to a popcorn stand toppled over, kernels scattered all over the ground.

 _Lassiter had been walking quickly into the carnival, searching his surroundings for any clue of what was happening when he saw a man standing by the popcorn stand watching him. They locked eyes, the man's hand reaching into the folds of his jacket._

" _Get down!" Carlton had roared to the crowd. If there was one thing he recognized, it was a weapon being drawn._

 _The crowd scattered around him, chaos ensuing. Yet in the midst of the turmoil, Lassiter kept his gaze steadily on the man who was now raising his gun._

" _Put your hands in the air!" he ordered. "Put them up, NOW!"_

 _If that man fired into the crowd…_

 _Lassiter's finger curled around the metal of his gun. He only had a split second to decide the best course of action. The man before him mirrored his action, hand tightening around his weapon._

 _Then a shot rang out, the crowd screaming around him._

" _This is Detective Lassiter, we have a code 417, suspect is down." He moved quickly to check the pulse on the shooter, finding a weak one. "We need a med evac now. Moving to search for more shooters…"_

 _The radio on his shoulder was exploding with voices but he ignored them as he continued onward, gun ready. There was only one voice he was listening for at the moment._

" _O'Hara?" he touched his radio. "O'Hara, you were right. They have weapons,_ be careful _. What's your status?"_

 _There was no response._

" _O'Hara!" Lassiter was running now, spinning rides and swirling lights rushing past him. He knew he should be paying more attention to his surroundings and potential threats but he_ had _to find his partner and the place was too damn big. "O'Hara!"_

 _There was no answer to his call._

"Detective Lassiter!"

He jerked to find the chief staring at him, hands on her hips as she stood next to the popcorn stand.

"Chief?" He straightened.

"I asked, Detective, how the carnival crew could have gotten away before we caught them? It's like they knew we were coming! What the hell is going on here?!" The Chief's nostrils flared, eyes flashing.

Carlton Lassiter could strongly identify with her current state of angry frustration.

"Has the man I shot regained consciousness?" he asked, one hand restlessly tapping against the gun in his shoulder holster.

"Not yet. The hospital has me on standby, they think…"

The chief was cut off by the sudden noise of a dog barking. They turned to see one of the police dogs going crazy by the haunted house. The dog's handler was fiddling with something at the base of the rickety structure when she suddenly disappeared into the ground.

"Holy…"

They ran forward, someone trying to calm the dog, who was alternating between whimpering, barking, and pawing the ground.

"You guys have to see this," the young officer suddenly popped back out, pushing aside a panel to reveal what appeared to be an entrance to a crude underground room.

They squeezed in, their flashlights sweeping the hidden space.

"Sweet Lady Justice…" Lassiter stared as he took in the stacks of money, crates of weapons, and shipments of drugs. "I didn't think it was possible, but this just got a lot worse."

Nobody argued with him on that.

* * *

"How are you doing?"

Shawn's voice was quiet in the darkness, the low tone of his words mixing with the sound of the highway roaring under them.

"It's working." Juliet shifted slightly, stabbing furiously at the ropes around her wrists while simultaneously attempting to ignore the blood dampening the ropes and her hands.

Trying to use the pointy end of a screw to sever a rope while recovering from a concussion was not the most ideal method of escape. She had definitely managed to gouge herself a couple times.

 _Desperate times…_ she thought to herself.

"I wasn't talking about the rope actually," Shawn cut off her train of thought.

He was sweet. And cute.

 _God, where did that thought come from?_ She was definitely concussed out of her mind.

"Shawn, I'm fine. I've told you like twenty times." She was about to scold him for worrying when she felt the bonds shift. "Hold on." She bent her arms in opposing angles, putting pressure on the ropes. "I think…"

The frayed remains of the rope snapped and she gasped at the sudden motion of her arms.

"Juliet?"

"I got them off. Hold on, I'll get you free." Juliet didn't bother to untie her ankles, moving immediately to instead free Shawn's wrists so he at least had a chance to escape if the van stopped.

She found him in the darkness, her fingers running over the rough rope that fastened his wrists to the metal bar of the van back door. Finding the knot, she quickly set to work.

"Jules, you're bleeding…"

His breath tickled her ear as she leaned around him.

"Hold still," Juliet told him, not sure how he had figured that out. A couple scratches were the least of their problems.

"I'm so sorry."

She could have smacked him.

"Shawn, listen." She increased the furor of her efforts to loosen the knot. "I'm a police officer. Protecting people… it's my _job._ "

"Not people like me."

"Shawn… you're not a bad person. I know you think you are, but you're _not._ And you can't convince me otherwise." She paused to quickly squeeze his bound hands, surprised to find them covered in a strange smooth texture. "Shawn, you didn't mention that your hands were also duct taped…"

She felt the slight movement of his shrug. "I'm good at getting out of ropes. They've gotten good at stopping me."

" _Bastards_ ," Juliet murmured under her breath.

Underneath her fingers, the knot was loosening and she doubled her efforts, willing her aching brain to hold together for just a little longer.

"Got it!" The rope fell away and Juliet desperately searched for the edge of the duct tape around Shawn's hands.

They were so close. Every moment seemed to stretch and become impossibly long in the face of her urgent efforts.

Beneath them, the van turned slightly and began slowing.

They were getting off the highway.

One fingernail caught the edge of the tape and she tore at it furiously, the beautiful sound of duct tape being ripped from itself ringing in her ears.

"Thank you." Shawn shifted beside her. "We have to get ready to surprise them, it's our only chance."

"I have to get my ankles," she whispered, sore fingers fumbling at the knots there.

"Let me help."

He was much quicker than she had expected. She wished she could see his face, could tell how he was doing…

A sharp turn suddenly threw them against one side of the van and then the vehicle began slowing significantly.

"Can we get the door open?"

"Working on it."

The darkness around them was suffocating, pressing in tighter and tighter. Combined with the waves of pain radiating from her head, Juliet had a sudden realization that she could very well pass out again.

"It's locked from the outside," Shawn's voice floated across her consciousness. "Juliet, you need to be ready to run."

"What?" That brought her back to earth. "What do you mean?" To her horror, she couldn't stop the slight slur of her words.

"You run and I'll catch up. Can you do that?"

"No," Juliet's voice rose slightly. "No, I can't do that, I'm not going to just run while you get killed."

"I can't…"

"We do this together or not at all," Juliet planted each of her words firmly. "Do you hear me, Shawn?"

The van slowed to a stop.

"Okay. We'll do this together."

* * *

Shawn could physically feel Juliet's disorientation next to him.

He had caught the slight slur of her words and the worrying halting pattern of her speech. She was definitely suffering from a severe concussion and needed immediate help.

He hated to lie to her about his plan, but there was no way he could let her try to take on two gunmen when she could barely stand.

Especially when he was the reason they were in this situation.

Shawn took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as the front car door slammed.

"Get ready," Shawn breathed, tensing his muscles.

Then the door opened.

Shawn didn't hesitate, didn't think; he just threw himself at the figure in front of him. "Juliet, run!"

He rolled on the ground with whoever he had tackled, catching a sudden glimpse of Rudd's furious face above him.

"I've wanted to kill you for a long time," Rudd hissed. Shawn summoned the last of his energy and managed push the larger man off.

Juliet. Where was Juliet? Did she get away?

Rudd's fallen gun caught Shawn's eye and he lunged for it, only to have Rudd grab his ankle, slamming him to the ground.

Head spinning and body screaming in pain, Shawn attempted to twist and get the man off.

Somewhere above them, a gunshot rang through the air.

Juliet.

The momentary distraction was all that Rudd needed and Shawn found himself pinned to the ground.

"I want you to die," Rudd growled, digging his retrieved gun into Shawn's chest. "God, this is so long overdue."

Behind Rudd, Crow stepped into view, his gun lazily pointed at Juliet as one arm casually held her close. Shawn's heart dropped as he finally was able to see Juliet clearly in the weak dawn sunlight. Her blonde hair was matted with blood, blue eyes dim and confused.

Oh god. No, no, no...

"Please," he choked out. "Let her go, man."

Rudd laughed. "And why the hell would we do that?" he sneered.

"If you kill a cop… they'll chase you forever Rudd. You know that. You think Crow's gonna watch your back? You know he only watches his own." He was trying to buy time, not even able to mask his desperation.

"Shut up." Rudd punched him, thick ring leaving a deep gouge in his cheek. "Do you ever stop interfering?!" He stood and Shawn tried to pull himself off the ground, only to be kicked back down. "Why can't you just shut up, huh? You think you're so much smarter than us? Think your fancy brain makes you better or something?" Each question was punctuated with a hard blow.

"Enough, Rudd." Somewhere beyond the suffocating pain, Shawn heard Crow's voice ring out. "Not here."

"Why not?" Rudd roared. "Why the hell not? You've killed people for far less than what he's done!"

"You know the plan."

Rudd turned to face Crow. In his shadow, Shawn painfully propped himself up on one elbow, spitting blood. Rudd and Crow's argument faded in and out as the air seemed to compress around him.

Why was he still fighting?

Shawn wanted to give up – to lie down, pass out, and just let whatever happened happen. After more than a decade of fighting, he was tired.

For a moment, he closed his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?!" His dad's face swam in front of him. "I didn't raise a quitter!"

"You didn't get a chance to raise me," Shawn reminded him.

"Do you still want to come home?"

Shawn groaned. "Dad, I'm busy dying, can we talk about this later?"

"Do you want to come home? Look at me!" His dad was so close that Shawn could feel his breath. God. That man really had to stop eating so much fish.

"Dad, of course, you know I've always wanted to come home."

"Then act like it!"

"That's a little harsh, don't you think?" Shawn grimaced.

"Listen, son," his dad cupped his face. "I want… I need you to make it home. So you have to fight just a little longer. For me, for Blue, for Juliet…"

Juliet.

Shawn blinked, reality rushing back.

Rudd and Crow were still fighting but something was different.

Although Juliet's body was still wilted in the same position as before, blood trickling down the side of her face, she was now staring straight at him with a focused gaze. Her jaw was clenched and as if in slow motion, he saw her nod slightly at him as her muscles tensed for action.

Then in one smooth movement, Juliet yanked the gun from Crow, raised it, and fired.

Above Shawn, Rudd's body rippled then fell.

But there was something that Juliet didn't know about Crow; he always carried more than one gun.

"Watch out!" Somehow Shawn scrambled to his feet and managed to push Juliet out of the way of Crow's shot, shoulder suddenly screaming in pain.

Dazed, Juliet dropped the gun at his impact with her.

Shawn turned to retrieve it only to stumble back at the spray of bullets that greeted him.

There was only one option left.

"Juliet." He grabbed her arm. "We have to run."

* * *

 _ **OMG WHAT WILL HAPPEN? WILL THEY MAKE IT?**_

 _ **Anything in particular you'd like to see happen? (No promises but I am curious!)**_

 _ **Until the next chapter!**_

 ** _~catlover1033_**


	8. The Ones We Lose

_**OH MY GOODNESS! Thank you for your patience, my beloved readers.**_

 _ **Be prepared for an emotional chapter. Not going to lie, I'm loving this section. Also, I'll try to update much sooner!**_

 _ **P.S. Thank you to the reviewer who complimented my chapter titles. I try *smiley face***_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Psych *sad face***_

* * *

It took Juliet an embarrassingly long time to realize that Shawn had been shot.

Everything was a blur; leaves and sticks ripping into them as Shawn pulled her through the underbrush in a zig-zag path that only further confused her addled brain.

At some point they had stopped running, instead they crouched behind a fallen tree, barely breathing as Crow had gone crashing by, bullets spraying the air around them.

The world surrounding her was a mixture of greens and browns and… red?

Leaning against the trunk, Juliet closed her eyes and tried to take deep silent breaths, willing the heavy fog of confusion and pain to clear from her mind. She imagined taking her gun into her hands, pulling the pieces apart them putting them back together.

Just envisioning the soothing action calmed the waves crashing against her skull.

Opening her eyes again, she was relieved to see that her vision had sharpened. With new clarity, she searched for and found the source of the color red.

It was oozing, congealing, streaking over Shawn's left hand, which was pressed to his right shoulder.

Blood.

He was bleeding.

He was hurt, he was shot, he was…

" _Jules."_ He was looking right at her, eyes soft with concern. "Did you hear what I said? I think we lost him."

"You got shot." She leaned forward, hands automatically going toward the wound. She peeled his hand away to get a better look, swallowing at the rate at which he was bleeding. Her mind seemed to click into autopilot as she shrugged off her top and worked on creating a makeshift bandage out of it, ripping the blue fabric in strips.

"Whoa," Shawn winced away from her touch. "This is getting a little too intimate, there really is no need to strip…"

Juliet glanced down at her grey tank top that had been under her top then back at the man in front of her and rolled her eyes. "Hold still."

To his credit, Shawn didn't cry out as Juliet pressed against the wound and wrapped the cloth tightly around it. Chest heaving, the man just bit his lip and stared up at the sky above, forehead glittering with a slight sheen of sweat.

"You've…" he paused, breathing hard. "You've got to immobilize my arm. I… I think it missed the artery but if you don't tie it down, I'm going to forget I can't use this thing."

Juliet picked up the last remaining strip of cloth, watching curiously as her bloody fingertips trembled while she fumbled to tighten a knot.

"Staring at your limbs as if they aren't attached to your body…. Not a great sign, Jules. My turn." Shawn shifted forward when she was finally done, gaze fixed on the wound on her head.

"I'm…" She started to protest. "I'm…" She couldn't quite figure out what word she wanted to use.

"You're barely lucid," he raised his eyebrows at her. "I think you might have a pretty bad concussion." His thumb brushed against her skin as he gently pushed her hair back. "You've… You've got a pretty impressive gash here." He seemed to be recovering from the bandaging process, his breathing steadying and energy returning to his words.

"Is it still bleeding?"

"Very slightly." He tore off edge of his t-shirt, trying to hide his wince at the movement, and dabbed the wound at her hairline. "Let's do a quick cognitive test."

"Okay." For once in her life, Juliet wasn't actually sure she would pass.

"Do you know what day it is?"

She looked at him blankly, trying to fight her panic as she realized that she had no idea. "Do you?"

"I am pretty sure it is one of the days between Sunday and Sunday." Shawn said very seriously.

"That's all the days, Shawn."

"Okay, next question. What color is the sky?"

She glanced up. "Light blue…"

"Hmm…" he frowned. "It's actually a washed out cerulean tinted with cobalt. Let's keep going. What is the cream inside twinkies made out of?"

"Chemicals?"

"Wrong. Deliciousness. Square root of 29?"

"Um…."

"Scratch that." He shifted slightly closer, expression very serious. "Now this question is really important, okay?"

Juliet nodded, suddenly nervous. Maybe this would reveal whether or not she had sustained brain damage…

"How many corgis does the Queen of England have and how would someone, hypothetically of course, go about stealing one?"

"Shawn!" she huffed. "I have no idea."

"Dang it!" he looked genuinely disappointed. "I really wanted to know."

"We need to get out of here," Juliet shakily got to her feet, blinking as the world swam around her for a moment.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Shawn was beside her in an instance, movements stiff with pain. "I'm not sure you should be exerting yourself with that concussion. I didn't want to tell you this, but you answered all the questions wrong. Well except your answer to the square root of 29..."

"I didn't answer that question, Shawn."

"I know. That just proved you're a normal human being…."

"Shawn!"

He stopped rambling and looked at her.

"We need to find safety." She paused, taking in the way that blood was already seeping through the makeshift bandage on Shawn's shoulder. The man was standing but she honestly wasn't even sure _how_ ; besides the gunshot wound, bruises and cuts littered his body. A sudden memory emerged of Shawn being kicked _over and over and over again_ …

Juliet pressed her temples lightly, trying to clear her mind. What had she been saying? Oh yeah. "We have to get out of here. Can you walk?"

Shawn gave a pained groan as he leaned over but when he straightened, he was holding a large stick in his good hand, which he thrust at her. "Can you?"

 _Good question_. The world tilted slightly under her but not enough to dislodge her footing. She reluctantly accepted the stick, testing its strength as Shawn looked around for another one for himself.

"Do I look like Gandalf?" His face was hopeful as he clung, bloodied and bruised, to a thick branch in the hand that was not bound to his torso in a sling.

"You look like you got beaten up and shot."

He pouted and she wondered how the hell he was even standing up, let alone being theatric.

"Fine. You look a tiny tiny _tiny_ bit like him. Let's go."

"Is it the lack of a beard? Not that I want to sound insecure, but I'm pretty sure that man had like some sort of spell to get his beard to come in so thick and long…"

Somehow, despite everything, he could still make her smile.

* * *

Shawn knew that they were in big trouble.

Big bad serious trouble.

As much as Shawn had tried to keep track of directions, the persistent pain of his various injuries had numbed his senses – and if they _did_ successfully backtrack, he wasn't convinced that Crow wouldn't just be waiting there for them with his gun.

So that left them lost in the middle of nowhere, both severely injured, and possibly being hunted down by a criminal mastermind with an arsenal of weapons.

Ahead of him, Juliet was trailblazing, wielding her staff like a very very dull machete as she tried to make a way through a particularly thick patch of underbrush. He could see the growing dizziness of her motions. She shouldn't be standing up, let alone hacking through the wilderness.

 _Who is this woman?_ How was she so amazing?

"Can…" Embarrassingly, he was panting slightly. "Can we take a break?"

Juliet turned, smears of dirt and blood standing out strikingly against her pale skin. "Of course."

Shawn nearly collapsed on the ground, leaning heavily against the rough bark of a tree. He _really_ wished he could say that he was calling a halt for Juliet's sake… but in actuality, he couldn't go any further.

"How are you feeling?" Juliet knelt in front of him, blue eyes fixed intently on the bloodstained bandage on his shoulder as her hands lightly fluttered over it.

"Absolutely dandy," Shawn forced a grin. "I will have you know, the wilderness is my natural habitat; you see, I was born from a seed pod planted by fairies, fed by moonlight and watered with pineapple juice…"

"Shawn, are you delirious?"

Her hand was against his forehead, delightfully cool and smooth, and he had to stop himself from physically leaning into her touch.

"Jules," he cocked his head as he addressed her. "When I am feverish, I suddenly become a boring person who desires to go fishing and do yoga. This," he tapped his temple, "is my normal state."

Juliet looked adorably confused, her brow crinkling slightly. Shawn had the sudden urge to reach up and see if he could smooth out that wrinkle but somehow he stopped himself.

"You're losing too much blood," Juliet worried, sitting down beside him with a slight wince.

"Yes, but let's look on the bright side. I almost got a Boy Scout patch in fire building so we can roast bacon on sticks…" he looked around. "Or maybe a squirrel if we can catch one…" He paused when Juliet looked pointedly at his shoulder. "On second thought, I think we should just stick to roasting leaves. Also, in order to start the fire, I will need some matches and one of those fire starter block things…"

"I think stopping and taking stock of our situation isn't a bad idea," Juliet cut him off, her face expression tinted with concern as her gaze paused again on his shoulder.

"I've got to tell you, Jules, I'm not much of a wilderness person," he admitted. "Sitting down, now that is _much_ more my thing. In fact, I think someone needs to invent a zip line pulley system to bring snacks directly from the kitchen to…."

"Shawn." Juliet stopped him again, putting her hand on top of his. He struggled not to react to the sudden soft touch. "I'm sorry you're in this situation. It was my job as an officer to keep you safe and I failed. I just want you to know that I will do everything I can to make sure you get back to your family."

"Jules, why would you say something like that?" He squeezed her hand. "This isn't your fault, it's _mine._ I shouldn't have gotten you involved…"

"You didn't let me get involved, I had to force my way in," Juliet corrected him.

"But if I had…"

"Shawn." Suddenly her hands were on either side of his head, holding his face between them. "You were kidnapped at a young age, forced to endure God knows what, and… and I found you. I'm a police officer, that's my job, my _duty_ , and most of all, my choice. The situation you're in…you didn't get any say in that."

Shawn couldn't tear his gaze away from her soft blue eyes that were so full of determination and hope and everything good.

If anyone could save him, it was Juliet.

But he had to make her to understand that he was broken beyond repair.

"I could have left." The words dripped from his lips, tangled with the blood from his split lip.

"What?" Juliet's brow furrowed with confusion once again.

"I…" He hesitated. "I could have left the carnival, Crow, the whole thing. I could have escaped. I could have tried harder, could have somehow warned my family…"

"Shawn…" Juliet grabbed his hand, opening her mouth to cut him off. He couldn't let her do that.

"No, I _have_ to tell you this, I have to say it because you think I'm some hero for surviving, but _I'm not._ Sure I was the victim of a very random kidnapping when I was a kid, but… that still doesn't make me a good person. The things _I_ have done over all these years…" He turned away, unable to look at her. "I might have had a chance before if someone had found me when I was still little, but now… all I know in life is criminal activity. The Shawn Spencer that went missing… _he_ was innocent and good, someone worth mourning. The one they will find isn't. If I came back as… as this…" he motioned to himself with his good hand. "It would only bring more pain." He still couldn't look at her. He didn't deserve her care and he couldn't stand looking at the blood and bruises that had collected upon her perfect features because of him. "I will never be the boy they kept alive in their hearts and memories, I'll never be _their_ Shawn. Coming back… it would only take their son from them all over again."

* * *

 _ **Poor Shawn.**_

 _ **I can't wait to update this soon!**_

 _ **Let me know how you're enjoying the story!**_

 _ **Until then,**_

 _ **~catlover1033**_


	9. The Ones We Mourn

_**WOW I AM SO SORRY!**_

 _ **You all are way more amazing than I deserve. Thank you for the wonderful reviews and I am so excited to give you an update! I am planning to have the next one come much sooner since the material is already written. Ya'll... this is going to be an emotional rollercoaster. I hope you're ready!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.**_

* * *

Juliet was speechless as she let Shawn's words sink in.

Among the waves of pain and confusion and slight dizziness that saturated her mind, the implication of his statement sifted slowly, becoming clearer and clearer.

 _Shawn didn't believe he was worth saving._

Finding someone after an entire life of captivity - it was all unknown territory for Juliet, new waters that she had never waded through. She had no idea what had happened to Shawn over all those years or how that would affect a person, but she was beginning to catch a tiny glimpse.

However she would not allow those bastards to take more than they already had from Shawn. They had controlled over a decade of his life, they didn't get to do that anymore. No more.

Sudden intense anger flooded through her veins and Juliet struggled to keep her emotions in check. Right now she had to focus on Shawn.

 _Oh, Shawn._

She looked at him, _really_ looked at him, and her heart felt like it was breaking.

A thick gash in his cheek and split lip supplied smears of blood, while bruises, old and new, hugged the side of his face. Amidst the blood and bruises and grime, his eyes, haunted and hollow, were staring at something she couldn't see.

"Shawn." She squeezed his good hand, gaze lingering for a second on the bloodstained bandage encompassing his shoulder. _They needed to get help._

Still he wouldn't look at her and she had a feeling that he wasn't going to budge an inch from the tree trunk if she didn't get through to him.

" _Shawn."_

He didn't turn and she decided it didn't matter, as long as he would sit and listen, because _goddammit_ she had words and thoughts and feelings.

"Shawn, I never got to know the Shawn Spencer your family and friends knew."

Shawn shifted ever so slightly and she knew he was listening.

"The only Shawn I've gotten to know is the one who told me his name was Juan. And that Shawn… that Shawn is kind and funny and would do anything to protect other people, even if it means he will get hurt. That Shawn stood with a gun to his head and told me to get away even if it meant his death." Juliet shook her head, the movement caused her brain to swell with pain. Swallowing hard, she willed the overwhelming throbbing to recede enough that she could continue.

"So no, I don't know who you used to be. But I've gotten to know who you are now and _that_ _Shawn_ … he deserves a chance to build his own life. And your family deserves the _privilege_ of meeting that Shawn. Because Shawn," she smiled slightly. "It really has been a privilege to get to know you."

Slowly his hazel eyes found hers and she caught the faintest spark of hope in them. It was dim and fragile and tiny, but _it was there_.

"I don't know…" Shawn's words were uncertain as he struggled to finish his sentence. "I don't know how to be a normal person, how to live…"

"That's okay," Juliet nearly beamed, overjoyed at his small step forward. "That's okay! Because you have time to figure it out, Shawn. So much time."

 _And… and if you wanted, I would help you every step of the way._ Her silent words rang in her mind, begging to be released. However it wasn't appropriate, wasn't the time…

Although she couldn't say them, Juliet knew without a doubt that they were true. Sometimes in life, things were murky and uncertain. And other times, they were crystal clear.

Wanting to remain in Shawn's life, wanting to help him… that was a crystal clear, even in her current muddled state of mind. In the short amount of time she had known him, he made her smile wider than anyone else in Santa Barbara. He made her laugh and when she was with him, she didn't feel alone. And then, underneath the goofiness and strange sentences that made no sense, there was a person who went to hell and back yet still somehow retained a level of humanity that most people had lost long ago.

A person who could do that, who could _be_ who she had seen Shawn be… that type of person was worth fighting for.

But beside all those logical reasons and traits, there was the plain fact that Juliet just _cared._ She _cared_ about Shawn and she wanted to be a part of his life and she wanted him to be a part of hers.

However, this was neither the time nor place. Right now, this was about Shawn and getting him to safety, not about her and her rising feelings for Shawn.

"Do you think you could go a little further?" She hated to move Shawn but they had to keep pressing forward to find help if they were going to have any chance of surviving this mess.

"How's your head?" he asked.

Juliet's hand went to her temple and she winced. "It's still attached to my shoulders."

"That's good," Shawn looked incredibly serious. "I always prefer my head to be a part of my body." He paused. "But actually, are you okay to keep going?"

She didn't even think before answering. "Yes." There was no room for any other response. Nobody knew where they were, there was no rescue team coming.

"Help me up?" Shawn held out his good hand.

Juliet took it.

"We're going to get out of here," she told him as she pulled him to his feet.

Pale and dripping blood, he nodded firmly.

"I trust you."

Those words were simultaneously the scariest and most beautiful thing she had ever heard.

* * *

In general, Burton Guster was not the type of person to burst into _any_ building, let alone a police station. And to be honest, he wasn't sure if his entrance could really be classified as bursting in. It was probably more along the lines of aggressive-door-opening.

Regardless of what exactly it was, Gus realized that he had just willingly entered a police station and now he wasn't exactly sure what to do.

"Excuse me," he paused at the desk in front where an officer was watching him with eyebrow slightly raised. "I came for an update on the Shawn Spencer case."

The officer, name "McNabb" embroidered on his breast pocket, leaned forward. "Do you have any information?"

The question puzzled Gus.

 _Did_ he have any information?

Twelve years ago, while biking around the neighborhood, his best friend Shawn had disappeared into thin air.

At first, Gus had actually thought it all was an elaborate prank that Shawn had orchestrated, a sort of modern Tom-Sawyer trick. For days he kept expecting Shawn to randomly pop up, throw confetti and Twizzlers at him and shout "Gotcha!" It was the type of thing he could almost see Shawn doing.

But then days became weeks. And weeks became months. And in the wake of fruitless neighborhood searches and replay after replay of the Spencers pleading on TV for information, a somber quiet fell over the community and Gus's life.

The reality that Shawn was truly gone hit on his twelfth birthday. Gus and Shawn had planned, three months prior, that they would spend the _entire_ day in the arcade. Shawn had even agreed to give Gus all the tickets he won, although that agreement was more a result of him trying to make up for accidentally breaking Gus's bike than out of the goodness of his heart… But Shawn _did_ promise and Gus knew that he would never go back on his promise. And he would never miss his best friend's birthday.

So if Shawn was out there and able to, he would show up.

Gus waited on the porch all day, brushing away his parents' attempts to talk to him and ignoring the way that his sister Joy hovered in the doorway watching him.

He waited and waited and waited.

And then the sun set and Gus was officially twelve and alone.

What is a kid supposed to do when their best friend disappears?

Gus might have been a kid but he _felt_ Shawn's disappearance. He was just old enough to understand the gravity of what had happened and just young enough to struggle to find any way to express the swirling confusion, sadness, loneliness, and fear that worked its way into his life. Gus had been friends forever with Shawn; they did everything together. Without him, school was empty. He suddenly became the kid whose best friend disappeared and he spent the day dodging the whispered theories of what had happened to Shawn. After school, Gus didn't even know what to do with himself.

His parents encouraged him to make new friends, to move on, but Gus had no idea how to start. He had never had to make a friend before; Shawn had always just been there. To be honest, he didn't _want_ another friend. He wanted Shawn back, for everything to go back to normal. But now not only was Shawn was gone, but Gus had to walk alone through a terrifying world where a kid could disappear forever without a trace.

Streets became dangerous, pedestrians were to be feared, and nondescript vans struck terror into his grieving heart.

So instead of digging for China and setting up daredevil stunts and doing all the insane things Shawn could somehow talk him into, Gus sat safely inside, did his homework and stared outside through the window.

He watched and watched and watched.

From his vantage point, Gus watched Mr. Spencer stalk through the neighborhood day after day, replacing aging missing posters with brand new ones. He watched police cars drive by less and less frequently as the search faded in enthusiasm and hope. He watched the flowers of the neighborhood memorial to Shawn wilt and die. He watched as Shawn's mom eventually moved out of his house. He sat frozen, unable to tear his gaze away as Mr. Spencer stood motionless in the driveway for nearly thirty minutes after Shawn's mom left, just staring at where her car had disappeared down the street.

The very next day, Mr. Spencer showed up on their doorstep with a box.

"I was tidying up Shawn's room and found this stuff. I think these things belong to Gus," the man had said gruffly to Gus's mom. "Is he here?"

From around the corner, Gus peeked out at the man who was so familiar yet so different. Mr. Spencer somehow looked smaller and more fragile. His once twinkling eyes were dark with shadows.

"Hey Gus." His voice was sorrowfully gentle.

"Hi Mr. Spencer." Gus slowly stepped forward to look into the box as his mother moved to the kitchen to attend to a whistling kettle. Inside the cardboard was a hoard of toys – _his_ toys. Toys that Shawn had sworn up and down that he had no idea where they were.

"Hey! These are mine! Shawn, you thieving little…"

Gus stopped.

For just a second he had forgotten that Shawn was gone.

A knot formed in his throat as he stared down at the ground, trying to swallow away his tears.

"You miss him too, huh?" Mr. Spencer's voice caused him to look up. Wordlessly Gus nodded. "Well we aren't going to give up on him, okay?" Mr. Spencer put the box down and crouched slightly so that he was at eye level with him. "Shawn might not be here but he still needs us."

Gus hadn't known exactly what to do with that statement but he saw the tears that rimmed the man's eyes and remembered that before Shawn's disappearance, this man had been another father figure to him. He had spent so much time with the Spencers that he practically was a part of their family. Him and Mr. Spencer, they were probably the only two people left in town that _really_ knew Shawn. And looking into Mr. Spencer's eyes, he realized that without Shawn, they both were lost.

The next time Gus saw Mr. Spencer travel through the neighborhood with a fresh stack of posters, he forced himself to open the door.

"Mr. Spencer!" he had called out, suddenly stuck and unable to cross the threshold yet wanting to spend time with the man that understood what he had lost.

Mr. Spencer had looked up and Gus thought he might have almost seen the ghost of a smile on his face.

"Can I help?" Gus had called out, forcing himself to be brave. For Shawn's sake.

"Can you handle a stapler?" Mr. Spencer had asked.

"Yes sir."

It had been the start of a long and unlikely friendship.

So yes, Burton Guster had lots of information about Shawn and his disappearance. He had _lived_ it. But staring at the police officer in the station, he knew it wasn't the information they were looking for.

"I really just need to know what's going on," Gus told the officer, McNabb, with as much confidence as he could muster. "I came by earlier and they told me they would let me know if there were any updates but they never contacted me…"

McNabb looked sympathetic. "I'm not sure…"

Behind them, the door opened and a familiar detective stormed in. It was the same man that Gus had talked to earlier but he didn't see his blond partner anywhere.

"Hey, did you find out anything about…" Gus tried to ask the detective however the tall man stalked straight past him.

Gus was tempted to give up but this was about _Shawn._

So he steeled himself and pushed after the sallow officer.

"Wait! Did your partner find out anything about Shawn? What happened to the lead?" he asked.

The detective spun on him. "The lead is gone and so is my partner so if you don't mind, _stay out of my damn way._ "

Confused, Gus stopped and let the man hurry away.

He would just have to keep waiting and watching.

* * *

 _ **I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Again, I'll try to update sooner for the next one! Goal is sometime within a week.**_

 _ **Let me know what you think!  
**_

 _ **Be happy and safe, my beautiful readers!**_

 _ **Until next time,**_

 _ **~catlover1033**_


	10. The Ones We Save

_**Welp I'm late but not AS late as before, right? Thanks for putting up with me ya'll and special shout out to those who reviewed and also subtly (and not so subtly!) reminded me to update! You are the best and this one's for you.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Psych. If I did, it would have never ended.**_

* * *

The clock in the waiting room was driving Carlton Lassiter crazy.

Every second that passed, marked with a soft tick, was like a knife being driven further and further into him. He knew that as he sat waiting for something, anything, his partner's chances of survival were rapidly draining away.

 _If she wasn't already dead._

He drummed his knuckles against the wooden armrest of the hospital chair, mentally berating himself.

 _How could he have let this happen?_

Carlton Lassiter was Head Detective and he took that title very seriously. Juliet O'Hara, talented, young, compassionate Junior Detective Juliet O'Hara, was not supposed to be the one whose law enforcement career ended in tragedy. If anyone was supposed to be taken, it was him. And, God forbid, if anyone was going to be lost in the line of duty, it should be him. He had prepared himself for that from day one, had always been ready to make the sacrifice. Many nights he imagined the speech he would give, preferably from his deathbed, if he were grievously injured.

"There was never another option," he would tell the force of officers gathered around. "Justice has to be served, even if it means trading my life for the greater good. So don't cry," he would soothe them as they wept. "I might be leaving you but whenever you slap handcuffs on some lowlife or discharge your weapon for the sake of the law, I will be there with you."

Yes, he had made peace with his potential fate as an officer. However the one thing he hadn't been prepared for was to lose his partner.

"Detective?"

He started, jumping to his feet.

"Is he awake?" He was already striding towards the nurse.

"He should be coming out of the sedation any moment now," the nurse began to lead him back through the maze of rooms. "Now, I do need you to be gentle with him…"

 _Gentle my ass_ , Lassiter thought. This man was their key to understanding what was going on, their one chance at finding O'Hara. If it took shooting him again to get information, so be it.

Entering the room, Lassiter's gaze fell immediately on heavyset blond man lying in bed. Tubes and monitors surrounded him, a sheet pulled up all the way over his chest so Lassiter couldn't get an idea of the damage his shot had caused.

"Where is my partner?!" Lassiter growled, stalking to the side of the bed. "Tell me or I swear I will finish what I started!"

The nurse voiced her disapproval next to him but he waved away her concern, gaze fixed on the flickering eyes of the criminal before him.

"Tell me!" he demanded. "I know you're awake."

The man groaned. "I don't know, man."

Lassiter saw red.

 _Sick lying bastard…_

"Where is my partner?!" he grabbed the man's shoulders and shook him, the motion eliciting a cry of pain.

"You can't do that!" the nurse was trying to pull him back but not strong enough to do so.

Lassiter let go of the man's shoulders but didn't break eye contact. "I swear if you don't tell me where she is, I will make every single day of your pathetic existence a living hell…" The injured man's eyes grew round with fear as Lassiter slowly walked closer. "You think that getting shot was painful? Wait until you find out what real pain is," the detective bent over to whisper in the man's ear.

"Detective Lassiter!"

Lassiter froze as a sharp voice rang out, straightening slowly.

"Chief." He turned slowly to see the shorthaired woman standing imposingly in the doorway.

"We will discuss this later, Lassiter," Chief Vick moved toward the bed with purpose. "Right now, I'm only interested in what this man has to say." The woman's face was hard as steel, blazing eyes fixed on the gunman in the bed who seemed to be trying to disappear into his hospital bed under her gaze.

Even Lassiter felt a little afraid in the wake of her burning expression.

"Your gang had abandoned you and they happen to have one of my detectives and possibly the son of an officer. As someone complicit in the kidnapping of an officer of the law, one of _my_ officers to be specific, your life is worth very _very_ little to me. So I would start talking. Now."

The man's wide eyes darted between the Chief and Lassiter. "I want a deal."

Rage surged again. "How about I only bring you to the brink of death instead of killing you?! How's that for a deal?" Lassiter snarled.

"Lassiter!" The Chief glared at him before turning back to the man. "We can put in a word for a lesser sentence if you help us find our detective. However, regardless of what we do for you, trust me when I say that you _want_ to make sure we get our member and the kidnapped man back alive. If we can't find anybody else, you _will_ go down for all this. I can promise that your life will be a living hell."

The man's face paled. "I need time to think about it. If I talk, they'll kill me."

"We can offer you protection but we aren't going to wait for you. Either you help us or you go down for _every single thing_ your gang has done, from kidnapping to every last ounce of drugs we find."

The man swallowed. "Listen, all I know is this guy," he gestured at Lassiter, "walked into the park and shot me. I've been unconscious; I don't know where your officer is…"

Chief Vick's lips flattened into a straight hard line, eyes beginning to glow dangerously.

"But!" the man was quick to continue. "I think I know where the gang is heading."

"Tell us." It was an order.

The man squirmed, a battle for his loyalty clearly waging in his mind. "We always regroup in Vegas if something happens." He had picked them; whether it was because of self-interest or some far-too-late sense of morality, Lassiter didn't care. "When we're trying to fly under the radar, we usually stop at parks or other places where there isn't surveillance to change the plates and put decals on the van…"

"Describe them."

"Um… there's like a plumbing one and a fake painting company… that's all I remember. That isn't my job," the man mumbled.

"Specifics," Chief Vick's tone was one that could not be disobeyed.

"I don't remember! Honest!" The man held up his hands and immediately winced at the movement. "Listen, I never wanted anyone to get hurt, you gotta believe that."

"On the contrary, I don't have to believe anything you say. Your fate depends solely on whether we find the missing man and my officer." Chief Vick turned away, gesturing to Lassiter.

Lassiter was already pulling out his radio. "I need patrols on every single major road going from Santa Barbara to Vegas. I'm calling in a bolo for a large white van. It could be blank or be disguised as a plumbing or painting service vehicle. This is top priority, we have an officer MIA."

"Get a message to the park rangers also," the Chief instructed him before turning back to the man. "Now, I need to know absolutely everything about your gang and how it works."

* * *

"Just a little further," Juliet's voice was encouraging as she urged Shawn forward. The sun had risen high in the sky, its rays infiltrating the thinning trees and baking them in its heat.

"What the hell is… is that buzzing sound?" Shawn forced his feet to keep moving, trying not to stumble on the undergrowth that was poking his legs. Sweat dripped down his face and he wasn't sure if it was from the heat or the burning pain that radiated from his shoulder and encompassed his entire body.

"I think they're cicadas," Juliet paused by a tree up ahead, waiting for him to catch up.

"I thought they were little aliens," Shawn pouted slightly, his breath coming in gasps. "Little… little aliens screaming for help as they are fried alive…"

"It is hot," Juliet agreed, moving to support him the last couple steps. Her hair hung in limp strands around her face, sweat staining her grey tank top, covered in a mixture of dirt and blood, but _damn_ she still looked amazing.

Before them, the forest was thinning into a more desert-like landscape. Shawn struggled to catch his breath as he took in the craggy rock surfaces that mixed in with the occasional tree, wildflowers, and tan dusty earth.

He went to take a step forward and his body betrayed him as a foot caught on the unable ground and sent him tumbling down.

"Whoa!" Strong hands grabbed his good arm, slowing his descent. Still, the pain the fall elicited was overwhelming and the world swam around Shawn.

"…ahhh…" he tried unsuccessfully to stifle the cry of pain that burned in his lungs.

"Hey, Shawn, stay with me. Stay with me, okay?" Juliet's voice was like that of an angel. Shawn forced himself to pry open his eyelids, a worried Juliet hovering in front of him. He was struck once again at how blue her eyes were.

"You're okay," Juliet reassured him. "Just breathe, okay?"

He shakily copied her breathing until the pain had ebbed slightly.

"Jules…" his voice sounded as dry as the dust surrounding them. "I don't think I can go any further."

They had been walking for God knew how long and his body was giving him a _very_ strong no on taking one step more.

Juliet crouched in front of him, her hands gently unwrapping the crude blood-soaked bandage on his shoulder. He couldn't muster up the energy to pull away from the painful motion, just stared at her face and watched it morph from concern to fear.

"How bad is it?" he asked as she paused for a moment, clearly unsure what to do.

"It's… it's okay," she said, but her gaze didn't quite meet his.

"Just tell me," he breathed.

"I… I think it's infected," Juliet bit her lip. He just looked at her. "Okay, it's definitely infected. We need to get help, soon."

She looked so worried. She shouldn't be so worried, not about him.

"It's okay," he tried to reassure her. "How's your head?"

She sat down beside him and he took a moment to examine the wound. "It's okay," she echoed his words.

"It's finally scabbing over which is a good sign." Shawn carefully moved aside some hair, hardened with blood, to get a better look. Juliet winced slightly at his touch but didn't move away.

"I think we're in a national park or nature preserve. The wilderness is stretching on too far to be anything else," Juliet mused, squinting out at the landscape before them.

Shawn groaned. "Why is there so much nature on this planet?"

Juliet turned back to him. "Ready to go a little further?"

He would have said no except for the hope shining in her eyes. "I can try…"

Juliet slipped under his good arm and gave him a boost up.

The motion sent his world spinning once again, his body screaming with pain, and suddenly he was bent over, emptying his stomach of its very meager contents.

When the pain abated enough for him to register the world around him again, he found himself back on the ground with Juliet in front of him. Weakly, he attempted to keep his head up but found himself struggling to accomplish even that as his body was consumed with burning exhaustion.

"I… I think I'm dying."

He hadn't wanted to say it earlier, but now he had no doubt.

"Nope." Jules shook her head vehemently and watching her motion made Shawn dizzy all over again. "You're fine," Juliet told him.

"Jules, let's not make this one of those melodramatic scenes from a movie where you sob and plead over my dead body…"

Juliet smacked him.

"Hey!" He stared at her, slightly hurt. "What was that for?"

"You are _not_ going to die." Juliet ground out, shaking her finger at him, blue eyes aflame. Shawn suddenly got the strong sense that he was in trouble. "You're not." She glared at him as though daring him to challenge her.

"Jules…"

"No! I don't want to hear it!" she stalked toward him. "We did not go through everything that has happened these past couple days just for you to die, okay?! That is NOT going to happen. If you die… I… I'll kill you!" Juliet stared at him, chest heaving.

"Um…" Shawn wondered if he should point out the flaw in her logic.

"Don't." She pointed at him and his mouth snapped closed. "Don't say a word. I'm aware that doesn't make sense and I DO NOT CARE." Her eyes were aflame with anger, mouth set in a hard line, and jawline jutting out.

In that moment, Shawn was sure she was a goddess.

"Oh my god you are so hot when you're mad." The words slipped out without his permission and he clamped his mouth shut immediately. Never mind his infected bullet wound or dehydration; Juliet was going to kill him and he would deserve it.

However, instead of lunging for him, she turned around so he couldn't see her face. "I can't… I can't deal with this…" He could see the tension in her body as she stared out at the sprawling wilderness.

Shawn slowly tried to move himself into more of a sitting position, ignoring the pain. "Juliet," he rasped out. "Juliet, I'm sorry."

And suddenly she was by his side again. "Don't apologize. You don't have anything to apologize for. _I_ am sorry… I just…" To Shawn's horror, a tear slowly made its way down Juliet's beautiful face, carving a path through the grime. "I'm scared, okay?" She looked at him, another tear slipping down her face.

"Jules…" he reached a shaky hand forward to try to catch the tear. "Don't cry. Please. Don't cry. You're going to be okay…"

She shook her head, sniffling slightly. "I'm not worried about me, Shawn."

And then it hit him.

She was crying because he was dying. She was scared… of losing him.

A warmth like no other filled him.

"Juliet…" God, he was crying now too. "Juliet, whatever happens, _thank you_. Thank you for believing in me."

"I wanted to save you," Juliet bit her lip, more tears sliding down her face. "I wanted so badly to save you."

Shawn smiled slightly. "You did, Juliet. You did. I…" he took as deep of a breath as the pain would allow. "I always thought I would die and nobody would even know or care. But you…" he fought the growing lump in his throat. " _You_ cared. You gave me hope, gave me chance to look at the world in a different way. You saved me from myself." He smiled. "You did."

Juliet stared at him, blue eyes wide and lined with tears. Then something changed. The familiar look of determination he had come to love overcame her expression, taking the place of sorrow and fear. "This is not how it's going to end, okay? We're going to make it," she said suddenly. "We're _both_ going to make it." Her words weren't a question, but a demand. "I'm going to get you home to your family and you're going to live a long happy life, okay? Okay?!"

It was silent for a moment and Juliet just looked at Shawn, her eyes pleading for him to agree.

"Okay," Shawn said finally.

"Say it," Juliet ordered. "Say that we are _both_ going to be okay."

"We're _both_ going to make it." Shawn didn't believe his words but he believed in Juliet. He wouldn't talk about death anymore, even as he felt its approach numbing his limbs. He would do everything he could to keep Juliet's hope alive because it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. If he was going to die, he didn't want to take Juliet's light with him.

"Good." Juliet nodded firmly, clenching her jaw and roughly swiping at her eyes. "Good."

* * *

 _ **Oh my Shules what have I done.**_

 _ **I can't wait to hear what you all think!**_


	11. The Ones We Fight (For)

**_No need to mount a search and rescue party - I am here! Well and alive and forgetful as ever. Thank you for the amazing reviews and reminders to update!_**

 ** _Welp. I hope you all are ready for this because it's emotional and it isn't stopping for awhile._**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Psych sigh._**

* * *

Juliet made a quick mental list of everything they needed.

Water. Food. Shade. An operating room and team of doctors.

Behind her, Shawn was propped up against a tree, his head lolling in exhaustion. He was clearly fading fast. Although he had perked up after their conversation and stopped talking about dying, Juliet knew if they were really going to make it, they needed help and soon. Really soon.

Shawn wasn't in any shape to go farther, so Juliet moved just outside the tree line to gather the darkest stones she could and arranging them into a large word on a plateau.

HELP.

It was a long shot but she couldn't think of anything else to do that didn't involve leaving Shawn behind. With Crow potentially prowling the woods, that wasn't an option.

Wiping her hands off on her pants, she willed the world to stop shifting beneath her. Her concussion was just going to have to wait a little bit longer.

"Shawn." She came back to the tree, sitting beside the man. She could literally feel the heat radiating off him. She was debating whether it was best to let him sleep or wake him up when he opened his eyes. They darted feverishly from her face to the scenery around them, blinking rapidly.

"Jules." He began to smile as his gaze focused on her. "Hey."

Even sick and bleeding out, his smile made her heart skip a beat.

"Hey." She grabbed his good hand and squeezed it.

"You left," his brow creased as he frowned.

"Just for a little bit; I'm back now," she reassured him. "Hang in there, okay?"

"Mm'kay." Shawn's eyes drifted shut again and fear pierced Juliet's being once again.

He needed help that she and this barren landscape could not provide.

What could she do? _What could she do?_

Shawn Spencer was going to die right in front of her.

It wasn't fair. How could the world be so cruel to one person? How could people steal literally _everything_ from this man?

Her panicked thoughts were interrupted by a distant drone at a different pitch than the cicadas that heralded them from the trees.

Was that…

She had to force herself not to hope even as she hurtled out of the tree line to scour the sky.

And there it was, loud, noisy, glorious: a helicopter.

"Here!" Juliet screamed, waving her arms. "We're here!" Relief flooded her being, so overwhelming that she could barely breathe. "Here! Here!"

Suddenly a hand snaked around her neck and pulled her back.

" _Shut up, bitch,"_ a voice hissed in her ear. "Do you know how long it took me to find you?"

 _Crow._

Juliet's heart clenched with unbearable fear. _Shawn. Had he hurt Shawn?_ Somehow she managed to push the man away long enough to turn and catch a glimpse of Shawn. All the air left her lungs in relief as she saw that he was still in the same position she had left him, chest rising slightly.

The feeling didn't last long as Crow's hand wove its way in her hair, right over her head wound, and yanked hard. A cry of pain was drawn from her lungs as he dragged her back towards the cover of the trees.

"Shut up!" He threw her to the ground and the earth tilted and swam beneath her. Taking ragged breaths, she attempted to pull herself up but Crow slammed her right back down. Standing over her, he took a step closer until he was above her. In the background the noise of the helicopter faded into the distance, taking Juliet's hopes of rescue with it.

"Nobody has ever messed up my plans as badly as you did." Crow crouched in front of her slowly, his dark eyes boring into her. "I _really_ don't appreciate it." He suddenly lunged, grabbing her by the shoulders and throwing her against a tree.

Something audibly cracked and Juliet struggled to prop herself up on one elbow as the iron tang of blood filled her mouth and her head screamed in agony..

" _Everything_ was perfect before you came along."

Juliet couldn't lift herself from the ground, her mind throbbing with excruciating pain as crimson dripping from her lips and the dust covered leather shoes stepped closer with a soft crunch.

"It's only fitting then that you be the one who solves this whole mess." Crow pulled out something, but her vision was so blurry and distorted that she could barely tell what it was. "Recognize these?" the man jeered and Juliet's stomach dropped as she finally realized that he was coming toward her with her own handcuffs. "You're going to be my human shield."

He was going to take her with him.

"Hey…. Hey!" A weak voice called out.

 _Shawn._

Pure horror flooded her as Crow turned to see Shawn struggling to stand up.

"Leave… leave… her alone…" Shawn was nearly clinging to the tree to stay on his feet, his entire body flushed and shaking.

Crow just laughed. "Your usefulness, my friend, has finally run out." He raised his gun.

Something in Juliet's being snapped as uninhibited rage coursed her veins.

 _How could someone be so ruthless as to rob a person of everything then had then discard them the moment they no longer need them?_

Shawn wasn't a tool; he was a person and he deserved to have a life. Right now, she was the only person there to fight for that; there was no option. She _had_ to try, even if it meant she didn't make it. So Juliet did the one thing she could think of; she kicked her foot up as Crow was still standing over her, nailing him right in the crotch.

The man doubled over, a stream of explicatives filling the air as Juliet somehow forced herself to her feet. _Just a little longer, just a little longer,_ she pleaded with her darkening vision. _Once Shawn is safe, you can pass out but until then, you're all Shawn has left._ She kicked the gun out of Crow's hand and lunged for it as blood and anguish roared in her ears. Her fingertips brushed it just as he grabbed her ankle and slammed her to the ground.

Nearly blind with pain, she threw herself at the man to keep him from reaching the gun. The noise in her ears reached a deafening level as she managed to get ahold of Crow's head. Just as he had done with her, she wove her fingers into his greasy brown hair.

Time seemed to slow as she gathered all she had left and yanked his head down against the ground, _hard._

As suddenly as her desperate fight had begun, it was over.

Juliet raised her gaze from Crow's limp form to look at Shawn who stared back at her with fever-bright eyes.

Behind him, a blur of machinery churned dust into the air and provided the roaring sound that Juliet had assumed was her approaching loss of consciousness.

 _They seriously couldn't have shown up five minutes earlier?_

Painfully, Juliet dragged herself through the dirt to where Shawn had dropped back down to the ground. "Shawn, help is here. You're going to be fine. They found us." She finally reached him and sandwiched his good hand between hers. "Hang on just a little longer."

A good distance away, the helicopter finally landed, blurred figures jumping out onto the ground and running toward them.

"O'Hara!" As one of the men came closer, Juliet immediately recognized her partner.

She never thought she would be so viscerally relieved to see him.

As Lassiter approached, Juliet wanted to shout that they needed a med evac stat, that Crow still needed to be restrained, that the other gang member had been shot by the road and all the other things they needed to know… however no words came.

She had given absolutely everything she had left to keep Shawn safe and now… now she could leave it in her partner's capable hands.

Lassiter came sprinting across the last stretch, sliding to his knees beside her.

"O'Hara! O'Hara, talk to me!"

"Keep Shawn safe," was all Juliet could manage before she finally surrendered to the beckoning oblivion.

* * *

"Where is he?! Let me see him!" Henry Spencer was pushing whatever and whoever got in his way aside as he stumbled almost blindly through the hospital.

"Sir! Please, calm down!" A nurse intercepted him just as he got to large white doors leading to the emergency operating rooms. "You can't go back…"

"You don't understand; my son is back there!" He grabbed the nurse's shoulders. "He's here and… and… he's here…. He's…he's…"

Henry was suddenly at loss for words, the realization that Shawn, his son, had been found crashing over him anew, as it had every couple minutes since the Chief's call.

"Sir, I need you to let go of me and sit down." The nurse gently removed his hands from her shoulders. "I will let the doctor know that you're here when she's available but you cannot disturb her while she is trying to save your son's life."

Henry ran a hand down his face as the nurse moved away, so overwhelmed by emotions that he felt like he might literally explode.

Thankfully, the doctor didn't keep him waiting much longer.

"Family of Shawn Spencer?"

He more or less sprinted to the doctor as she emerged from the doors still in scrubs, pulling on a new pair of plastic gloves. "How is he?! Can I see him?!"

The doctor, a small woman with dark hair and crinkles at the corner of her eyes, smiled gently. "Let me just give you a rundown of what to expect," she suggested, leading Henry to a side room. "Would you like to take a seat?" the doctor motioned to a couple uncomfortable looking chairs.

"No." Henry didn't even glance at them. "Tell me how he is."

In retrospect, he was being rather rude however the doctor didn't seem to mind, only nodding understandingly.

"Shawn came in suffering from a gunshot wound in his shoulder along with heavy lacerations and bruising, dehydration, and malnutrition. The most pressing concern is his shoulder wound; thankfully it missed the artery however he still lost a lot of blood. Additionally, in the time he went without treatment, he developed a bacterial infection. Currently we are still working to get that under control, however the good news that he is more or less stable for the moment. It's still going to be touch and go for a bit but I feel optimistic that barring any complications, he will make a full recovery."

The words spun around Henry. He didn't know whether to focus on the overwhelming fear that Shawn wasn't out of the woods yet or the crushing relief that his son had made it this far and the prognosis was optimistic.

"Can I see him?"

The words fell from his lips, terrifying and invigorating. Part of him was convinced this was all a cruel dream or that the man wasn't really his son. He had to see.

But… what if he didn't even recognize his own son anymore? How could he ever be prepared to reunite with his only child after twelve agonizing years of forced separation?

And then there were all the things that had changed in those years, on both sides.

"Mr. Spencer." A gentle touch on his shoulder brought him back to reality. "A police officer explained the circumstances of your son's injuries and what your family has been through. We think that it would be best to wait on reunification until he is conscious and prepared to see you. The last thing we want is to startle him when he is regaining consciousness – with such an overwhelming emotional situation and his body in such fragile condition, the shock could be counterproductive to his health."

Henry stared at the woman, trying to process her words.

"I… I need…" He stopped.

This wasn't about what he needed. It was about what Shawn needed. He wanted to do this the right way. Shawn was an adult now – his own person. Henry could see that it made sense to let Shawn decide when he was ready to see them.

But goddammit he needed some proof, just a moment, just a second to see that this was real…

The doctor watched the battle of emotions taking place on his face and if possible, her expression deepened in sympathy. She hesitated, as though thinking. "He's still under from the surgery. You can go see him for a couple minutes now before the sedation wears off. But you cannot touch him, do you understand?"

Henry's heart leapt. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means…"

"Follow me." The doctor motioned to him and led him back through the winding white halls.

They paused briefly in front of the door, the doctor quickly explaining what to expect and Henry automatically nodding while his heartbeat began to speed up and its pounding deafened any other sound. When the door opened, it was as if there was a strong current dragging Henry toward the bed; he physically was unable to move any other direction.

And then there he was.

Completely paralyzed, Henry just stared down at the living, breathing young man who was simultaneously a stranger and achingly familiar. Henry mentally traced the man's features, searching the battered face for the person he was looking for, the person he had never stopped looking for.

And behind all the bruises and cuts and tubes, underneath the age that had slimmed rounded cheeks and matured youthful innocence, Henry found his little boy.

"Shawn." Henry sat gingerly in a chair, tears chasing each other down his worn face. "Oh my god." One hand covered his mouth in shock and amazement, the other automatically reached to take his son's hand before freezing as he remembered his instructions not to touch the man before him.

"You can hold his hand, just don't touch any of the tubes or machines," the doctor spoke up from where she had been silently watching from the doorway, wiping her eyes as she took in the scene before her.

Carefully, as though approaching a wild animal, Henry reached a shaking hand forward toward his son's limp one.

 _Please don't be a dream, please don't be a dream…_

Calloused fingertips brushed against bruised knuckles in a sacred meeting of father and son.

Shawn's hand was warm, solid, and real. Gently, Henry cradled it in his and quietly cried as it sunk in that finally and truly his son had been found.

* * *

 _ **Oh my.**_

 _ **Anyone crying yet?**_

 _ **Until the next one!**_

 _ **~catlover1033**_


	12. The Ones We Need

**_Hello! I'm still alive and this story is still continuing! Actually, I have some good (I think?) news for you all. I just finished writing this story and we actually are only looking at a couple more chapters. Don't freak out though - there is going to be a sequel/part two, which I am already working on._**

 ** _Hopefully I will be better at updating since the material is already written, but you all know I have a pretty bad track record with updates... sigh. I'll do my best. And I always love/appreciate hearing from all of you and your subtle (and not so subtle) reminders to update. You all are the best!_**

 ** _This chapter is extra long to make up for the long wait!_**

 ** _Okay, I'll stop talking now and give you the disclaimer: I do not own Psych._**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

* * *

The world was soft and warm in a way that was simultaneously comforting and unsettling in its unfamiliarity. Shawn wasn't sure what to make of it; the best guess he had was that he had died and been reincarnated as a moth in a cocoon.

However that was improbable. _If he were reincarnated as a moth, wouldn't he start his new life as a larva rather than already be in a cocoon?_

He discarded that thought and debated what he should do.

Part of him wanted to keep his eyes closed forever and just accept that for whatever reason, he was no longer bleeding out in a forest. Surely re-entering reality was not worth the risk that Crow had found him and he was in some new nightmare…

Wait.

 _Crow_.

 _Crow had hurt someone._

Somewhere in the background, a rhythmic beeping began to increase in speed.

 _Juliet._

Shawn yanked his eyes open and was instantly flooded with the color white. _Where was he? What was going on?_ He didn't think he had ever seen so much pure white before; everything in his usual surroundings was sadly faded carnival colors or various shades of dirt brown.

Blinking rapidly, Shawn willed the world to come into focus as sounds began to assault his mind.

" _He's awake…"_

" _Heart rate is spiking…"_

Shawn squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will away the voices.

He had to focus so he could find Juliet… His memory was a mess of scrambled images that he couldn't make sense of, yet it all was saturated in the definite knowledge that he needed to get to Juliet, that Juliet was in danger…

"Mr. Spencer, you're safe now, it's okay. I need you to calm down. Please, take some deep breaths..."

"Juliet…" Shawn managed to gasp out. "Jules." He opened his eyes again and was relieved to find the world was less blurry. However that meant that he could see with clarity the unfamiliar faces peering down on him. "What…." He looked wildly around and realized that he was in a bed with tubes sticking out of his arm and thick bandages wrapped around his shoulder. "Am I in a hospital?" He suddenly matched the scene before him with images from a television show long, long ago. "Where is Juliet? Where is she?!"

"Yes, you're in a hospital. It's going to be okay. Please calm down…"

He tried to pull the tube out of his arm, ignoring the agonizing pain at the movement, so he could get out of bed. However, one of the people around his bed - a doctor or a nurse, he guessed - stopped him.

"You don't understand; I have to find Juliet!" He tried to fight them but was sadly outmatched.

"He's not calming down. We need to sedate him; he's going to reopen his wound."

Another one of the doctors began filling a needle with something.

Now needles Shawn was very familiar with and in his experience, they were never filled with anything good.

"What… what are you…" Suddenly he was afraid and uncertain of the intentions of the people before him.

 _Juliet,_ Shawn reminded himself. He had to stay focused to find her. He couldn't be drugged.

"I don't want any drugs." He tried to twist away but someone was holding him down. "I don't do drugs. Please."

"Hey! Stop!" Suddenly someone else was there, an older woman with dark hair and skin. She placed herself between him and the other doctors. "Seriously, I leave for _one minute_ and you all are already moving in _._ Listen up now, this man is a trauma victim; he doesn't need sedation; he's just frightened. There are way too many of you in here." The woman turned to the doctor holding the syringe. "Put that away. _Now._ And get out!"

Everyone in the room seemed taken aback but they quickly complied.

"Thank you," Shawn whispered as the needle disappeared along with the doctors. He tried to fight the exhaustion that quickly set in as his panic receded slightly. "Please, I need to find my friend." He addressed his question to the woman who had helped him. He wasn't sure who to trust but she seemed like a potential ally. "Her name is Juliet… Juliet O'Hara, she's blond with blue eyes, uh…" He closed his eyes for a moment. "She's exactly five foot five inches and three quarters, she was wearing…"

"Shawn." The woman smiled gently at him. "Slow down. Your friend is here at the hospital being treated. You are safe now."

Shawn stared at her, relief slipping over his being like a cool balm. "She's here? She's okay?"

"Let's back up a little, okay? My name is Bree and I'm your nurse so it's my job to help you get better. That means I need us to get your heart rate down a little. Your body is still fighting off a nasty infection and it doesn't need any additional strain. Take some deep breaths with me, okay pumpkin?"

Despite himself, Shawn found himself following Bree's breathing. In the background, the tempo of beeping slowed.

"Good! That's great!" Bree positively glowed. "I'm sorry about those fools who were in here earlier. They're in training." Bree shook her head. "I have no idea what they were doing in here but I'm sorry. Let's take a couple more deep breaths okay, just to get that heart rate in the gold zone…. There you go…"

"Juliet's okay?" Shawn searched Bree's face between deep breaths.

"Oh pumpkin." Bree patted his hand. "She's had a rough run of it but she's in good hands now."

There was something she wasn't telling him.

"Is she okay?" He grabbed the nurse's hand. "I need to know. Tell me, please."

Bree gave him a sad smile. "Your friend Juliet has a skull fracture that was further complicated by the lack of treatment for so long. To combat the swelling in the brain, she's been put in a medically induced coma."

"Skull fracture? A coma?" Shawn's chest constricted painfully.

Bree squeezed his hand, dark eyes full of compassion.

"From everything I've heard about your friend it sounds like she's a fighter. If anybody can pull through, it's her." The nurse paused. "Speaking of fighters, you've had an impressive battle yourself. I'll let your doctor fill you in on the details but you, Shawn Spencer, are lucky to be alive."

Shawn shook his head, Juliet's face filling his mind.

"It wasn't luck."

* * *

Shawn was still trying to process the fact that Juliet was in a coma when another doctor walked into the room. Although short, her presence was commanding and she briskly approached the bed.

"Mr. Spencer, I am Doctor Feng; I'll be overseeing your recovery here at Santa Barbara General Hospital. How are you feeling?"

That gave Shawn a pause; he had been so focused on Juliet that he hadn't actually acknowledged the various aches and pains he was feeling.

Now that he thought about it, he actually felt like total crap. He was pretty sure his brain had been microwaved then frozen then microwaved again. His shoulder felt like, well, like it had been shot.

"I feel fine."

"Hmm." Dr. Feng glanced at him over the top of her glasses as she flipped through the papers at the foot of his bed. She obviously could tell he was lying but Shawn was grateful that she didn't push the subject. "Well, regardless of how you feel, your body has been through a lot. The main point of concern was the gunshot wound to the shoulder; we were able to flush out the infection and repair the damage done there. The IV here is administering antibiotics to continue…"

Shawn zoned out as the doctor went into medical jargon, deciding instead to construct a plan on how to get to Juliet. He _needed_ to see her.

"…also need to discuss when you are ready to see your family."

Shawn blinked rapidly, suddenly completely present and engaged.

"My… my family." He stared at the doctor. "They're here?"

"Your dad is here and your mom is flying in."

"My dad…" Shawn could barely grasp what that even meant. If his brain was struggling to process everything before, now it felt like he was literally hitting a brick wall. Of course, it made sense that if he had been found then his dad would be there, but somehow it hadn't quite occurred to him. "My dad is here." He really couldn't form any coherent thoughts beyond that sentence.

"Shawn." Bree put her worn hand over his, dark eyes soft. "I know this is all very overwhelming. You can take it at whatever speed you need, alright? You've been through a lot and the only thing any of us want, including your family, is for you to be safe and healthy. So you can take however much time you want. Okay?" The nurse squeezed his hand.

"Okay." Shawn closed his eyes briefly. Overwhelmed was not even close to describing how he felt. "Can…" He stopped, suddenly guilty for what he was going to ask for.

"What is it, pumpkin?" Bree caught his hesitation. "Ask away."

"Can I see Juliet now?"

It wasn't that he didn't want to be reunited with his dad. Shawn wanted that more than anything.

But he was also scared and beyond overwhelmed. The world felt like it was doing crazy loopdy loops around him and he just needed something familiar and safe for a moment before he could go on the next loop.

Somehow, he wasn't sure exactly how, Juliet had become familiar and safe.

He needed to see her.

The nurse and doctor hesitated.

"Just five minutes," he pleaded.

The beeping in the background began to increase in frequency again and Shawn could feel himself beginning to emotionally shut down at their silent refusal.

"I swear I will fight tooth and nail to get out of this bed until I see her. I need to see her. Why won't you let me see her?" His breath began to catch in his chest as he reassessed the possibility that the women were lying to him, that Juliet wasn't safe and neither was he…

The unfamiliarity of the everything came crashing back down around him and he felt like he was starting to flounder, starting to sink, starting to drown… somewhere a machine gave a soft alarm sound.

"Shawn." Bree's approach was gentle, her hands held up where he could clearly see them. He appreciated that and it made him relax fractionally. "If we let you see your friend, will you promise to rest and focus on getting better?"

" _Yes._ " He didn't care what they wanted from him. He needed to see Juliet. He needed to know she was safe.

"Alright." Dr. Feng's expression was gentle but firm. "Five minutes."

* * *

Carlton Lassiter hated hospital waiting rooms. He loathed the stiff uncomfortable chairs and the mindless replay of shows on the TV and the outdated and idiotic magazines on the sad little side tables.

But the worst part about hospital waiting rooms was the fact that if he was in one, it meant someone had been injured.

He'd done many waiting room stints before for suspects, witnesses, and even pals in the force.

But it had never been his partner back there.

And now it was.

So once the initial shock of hearing that Juliet was in a coma wore off, he had immediately demanded to see his partner. No more waiting. He had to see her right now, not a second later.

"Detective, put your gun away this instance." A voice cut through Carlton's present argument with the doctor and he turned to see Chief Vick striding purposefully toward them.

"They won't let me see my partner!" Lassiter was almost embarrassed by the amount of raw emotion in his voice but couldn't find the will to actually care.

The chief's steely blue eyes paused on him momentarily before turning to the doctor.

"Chief Vick, SBPD," she pulled out her badge. "Detective O'Hara is one of ours, is there any way we can see her?"

The doctor hesitated, his gaze flickering to Lassiter's stormy expression.

"We won't disturb her in any way, I promise," Chief Vick reassured the doctor. "Right, Detective Lassiter?" She subtly elbowed him in the ribs, hard.

"Of course," Lassiter ground out.

A couple minutes later, they were being briefed outside Juliet's hospital room and Carlton had to stop himself from reaching for his gun. Holding a loaded weapon always made him feel better.

"Ready Detective?" Chief Vick was watching him carefully.

"Ready." Just as carefully he made sure not to make eye contact.

They entered the room and were immediately saturated in the noise of soft beeping and hissing of various machines. There were so many that it actually took Carlton a moment to find Juliet among the tubes and wires.

When he did, his first reaction was to wonder if Juliet had somehow shrunk; he had never seen her look so small and defenseless. Lying in the bed, her golden hair tangled, bruises and cuts littering her pale skin, and tubes everywhere, Carlton could barely recognize his partner.

"Oh, Juliet." Chief Vick's mournful tone was almost as unnerving as how small Juliet looked in that hospital bed and all of a sudden Lassiter could barely take it anymore. He didn't want to see how vulnerable Juliet was and how, as an extension of that, Chief Vick was vulnerable, and then he would be affected and suddenly there were overwhelming emotions everywhere and godammit, Lassiter just wanted to mentally disengage from this situation.

Somehow he forced himself into a stiff hospital chair and watched as his chief gently took his partner's hand. _Please don't say anything sentimental, dear God please…_

"You've got this, Juliet," Vick's gaze was fixed on her youngest detective. "You're going to be okay."

 _Sweet Mother of Mercy, stop. Stop it stop it stop it._ Carlton Lassiter had to fight the childish urge to cover his ears and babble nonsense to drown out everything else.

He desperately needed everyone to stop acting like Juliet was going to die.

 _O'Hara was just fine. She was taking a brief reprieve and that was it._

He knew this because Carlton Lassiter's partners did not die. Not without his permission. Which he was definitely withholding.

The soft buzzing of a phone pulled Chief Vick away from the bed. "I have to take this," Chief Vick glanced at him briefly. "Stay with her," she ordered, pausing to squeeze Juliet's hand one more time before exiting the room.

"Wait, Chief…" Lassiter stood but not fast enough to stop the woman who was already powerwalking down the hall, phone to her ear and barking orders.

Well.

He was officially alone with his comatose partner.

Lassiter eased himself back into the uncomfortable chair.

"So…" Carlton rubbed his chin and tugged his ear. "You did some good work out there."

O'Hara was absolutely still.

He lasted about twelve seconds.

"I need coffee," Lassiter stood back up, striding to the door before turning back to address his partner. "Wait here, I'll be right back. And don't tell Chief Vick I disobeyed her order."

Juliet did not stir.

"Right. That's the spirit." Carlton gave her a thumbs-up before fleeing the room.

When he got back, dark liquid that could barely be classified as coffee cradled in a cup between his hands, he was surprised to hear a soft murmur coming from the room as he approached the door.

"Crap."

He carefully set his cup on the ground, simultaneously pulling out his gun.

Those thugs were back to finish the job.

Unfortunately for them, they didn't realize that Juliet O'Hara was Carlton Lassiter's partner. Which meant that they would have to go through him to get to her.

Carefully Lassiter pushed the door open a crack, peering in to get a visual, clicking off the safety…

Only to find a man who somehow looked worse than Juliet sitting by her bed in a wheelchair. Between the two of them, Carlton was sure they had every color of the rainbow accounted for in fresh and fading bruises. They could probably sew a quilt together from the amount of bandages there were. Slowly he lowered his gun.

 _"…so so sorry,"_ the man was saying. _"I never meant for this to happen, Jules."_

Carlton stiffened. Why was this man apologizing? Was he the one who hurt her? Was he going to hurt her again?

He raised his gun back into position.

 _"Why didn't you just let them have me? I'm not worth your life, Juliet. I don't want to be Shawn Spencer again if it means that Juliet O'Hara is lost instead…"_

Lassiter's confusion cleared.

The man was Shawn Spencer. Lassiter was sure that if the man turned he would recognize his face from their brief meeting on the edge of the Angeles National Forest.

What had Juliet's last words been to him again?

 _"Keep Shawn safe."_

Carlton holstered his weapon.

 _"My dad's here, Juliet. And I don't know why but I'm terrified to see him again. For so long, seeing my family was all I ever wanted. But what if they don't want a damaged son?" The lack of response was deafening, lasting for several minutes until the man drew a deep sigh. "I can't see him until I know you're okay. I can't do anything until I know you're okay... You're the reason I'm here, I can't just go out there while you're here because of me…"_ The man stopped. _"Please Juliet. Wake up."_

Carlton Lassiter stepped quietly away from the door and headed slowly down the hall for a nearby bench. He knew his partner was safe for the moment and in his heart he echoed the missing man's words.

" _Please Juliet. Wake up._ "

* * *

 _ **I hope you enjoyed the nice, long update! Sorry we're still in angsty territory... it's going to be a bit until we get a semblance of resolution.**_

 _ **I would love to hear what you think!**_

 _ **Have an amazing weekend!**_

 _ **~catlover1033**_


	13. The Ones We Wake

_**Hello! I'm back! I was at two different work conferences these past two weeks and I am so happy to be home and hopefully back to my normal routines soon.**_

 _ **Shout out to you all for the amazing encouragements. Your wait is over. This chapter is here!**_

 _ **Also... did you see that the second Psych movie is in progress? I am so so excited.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Psych**_

* * *

" _Juliet, it's time to wake up."_

 _A face loomed into focus._

" _Dad?" Juliet sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. "What are you doing here…"_

" _You're going to be late for school."_

" _I'm not in school anymore, I'm a police detective…"_

 _Suddenly she was in the station, a pile of papers cradled in her arms._

" _Wake up from your fantasy, Juliet. The kid is dead…" In front of her, a tall detective crossed his arms._

" _Lassiter, I don't know…" She looked down at the papers she was holding and found a small boy staring at her from on old photograph._

 _The ground lurched beneath her and she was thrown onto the metal floor of a moving van._

" _Wake up, Jules, wake up. We've got to run!"_

 _The boy had grown up into a man, and he was beckoning to her, taking her hand and pulling her through the forest as the world exploded around them._

" _It's okay." They had stopped running and the man was holding her hand. "You're safe now. Come back."_

" _Back where?" Juliet gripped his hand but the scene was already fading, being replaced inch by inch with darkness that gave way to fuzzy consciousness._

"There you go, that's it. Can you open your eyes for me?"

The voice this time was unfamiliar yet gentle.

Stirring slightly, Juliet tried to make sense of the muted sounds and feelings that were filtering into her system.

"She's doing well, levels are stable…"

"You're doing great, Juliet. Can you open your eyes for me?"

Obediently Juliet worked to fulfill the request, finally managing to pry her eyelids open before immediately closing them again as light almost blinded her.

"There you go. We're so glad to have you back, Detective O'Hara."

Blinking rapidly, Juliet finally managed to find the person talking; a woman clothed in white. A doctor. She was definitely in a hospital. But she couldn't quite remember how she had ended up in this position.

"Can you understand me, Juliet? Squeeze my hand if you can," the doctor smiled encouragingly as other doctors fluttered around the bed.

Gathering her strength, Juliet squeezed the doctor's hand.

"Great. Let's get you some water and see if you can maybe answer a couple questions."

As a nurse helped her get some ice chips, Juliet had the faint feeling that she was forgetting something really important. Everything was hazy and she grimaced at the pain that radiated from her head as she tried to concentrate on what had happened.

"Don't push yourself, Juliet." The doctor pulled up a chair next to the bed. "I know you have a lot of questions but right now I need you to relax. Your body has been through a lot, so for now I'm going to talk for a little bit and then we can see if you feel ready to ask any questions. Is that okay?"

Juliet nodded, grateful for the chance to listen while the ice chips rehydrated her parched throat and vocal chords.

"Good. We'll start with the good news; you are doing great." The doctor's eyes crinkled kindly. "You were brought in with a traumatic brain injury, a small skull fracture, which caused swelling and pressure of the brain. To get that under control you were put in a medically induced coma."

Juliet blinked, brow furrowing. That sounded serious. No wonder everything felt so fuzzy and strange.

"The treatment worked just as we hoped, and we were even able to bring you out of the coma earlier than expected. We will still need to do full cognitive testing to make sure there aren't any lasting effects, but I'm cautiously optimistic."

"What…" Juliet winced at the raspy sound of her own voice. "What happened?" She glanced at her hands and saw raw marks around the wrists as well as heavy bruising. A wisp of a memory drifted through her mind but eluded her grasp. Her inability to remember _how_ she received the injuries worried her far more than the actual marks. "I can't remember." She tried not to let her panic bleed into her scratchy voice.

The doctor gave her a sympathetic smile. "It's normal to have some amnesia after such a serious head injury. Most of your memories will probably come back but there might be a couple gaps. What you need to focus on now is getting better and resting; everything else will come. You're safe now, Juliet."

 _Safe._

The word was just as unsettling as it was relieving. Because Juliet was pretty sure that it wasn't just her who needed to be safe. There was something - no, _someone,_ she had been protecting. Whatever she was protecting them from was the reason for the pain radiating from her head and the wounds around her wrists.

"I know this is confusing but you need to calm down. Take some deep breaths, Juliet." The doctor's instructions cut through her thoughts and she suddenly realized that the heart rate monitor was going crazy in the background.

 _Okay, not a bad idea. Breathe._

A scene suddenly filled Juliet's mind; _she was crawling through the dirt, trying to reach a man, a man who had been lost and found…_

"Shawn…" Juliet weakly tried to sit up. "Shawn, where is he? Is he okay?"

The doctor's face softened into a small smile. "He asked the exact same thing."

"So he's okay? He's here?" Juliet looked around the room but she was the only patient present.

"He's in a nearby room. He woke up and insisted on seeing you; you were still unconscious. And before you ask, you can't see him right now," the doctor cut off Juliet's next question. "His fever spiked a little while ago so his doctor is working to get that down before he can have any visitors. It seems the infection had spread further than they initially thought."

"Is he going to be okay?" Juliet gripped the sheet underneath her, mind swirling. _What had happened?_ It was all familiar and strange at the same time. There were so many gaps and it made her feel even more helpless than she already was.

"His doctor is optimistic; he's got a ways to go but she thinks he'll pull through."

Juliet slumped back against the pillow, trying to stop the tears that prickled the back of her eyes when suddenly her mind went into overdrive as bits of memories and conversations flooded back to her.

" _I will never be the boy they kept alive in their hearts and memories, I'll never be their Shawn."_

" _I'm going to get you home to your family."_

" _I don't know how to be a normal person, how to live…"_

" _I wanted to save you. I wanted so badly to save you." "You did, Juliet. You did."_

" _I trust you."_

Gasping, Juliet tried to sit up again.

"I _need_ to see him…"

"Juliet, you just woke…"

"No, you don't understand," Juliet couldn't let the doctor redirect her, couldn't stop talking despite the way her vocal chords grated and her head spun. "Shawn… he's spent the last twelve years being held captive, being told that he's something he's not, doing things he didn't want to do... coming back, he's going to be so confused and overwhelmed and scared. We haven't known each other that long but after everything we've been through, we trust each other. And he's going to need someone he can trust…"

But even as she spoke, a deep exhaustion loomed closer and closer despite her efforts to push it away.

"I need to be there…" Juliet tried to tell the doctor, her voice rasping in her throat. "I need…"

"Right now, what you _need_ is to rest…"

Juliet opened her mouth to protest.

"But while you're resting, I'll talk to your friend's doctor and we'll figure out a way for you to see him as soon as possible."

It was a start.

As much as Juliet wanted to make everything right as soon as possible, her body was making it clear that wasn't an option.

 _I'll be there as soon as I can_ , Juliet mentally promised Shawn. _Hang on a little longer._

The exhaustion finally broke through her efforts to keep it at bay and Juliet let sleep overtake her.

* * *

"No, I will not go any faster!" Bree's voice was exasperated.

"Please?" Shawn gave his nurse, who was pushing his wheelchair slowly down the hall, the most innocent and pleading look he could muster. "We have to get to Juliet. It might take twenty years at this pace. No offense."

"Dear Lord, remind me to block your access to the electric wheelchairs here. This is a _safe_ pace," Bree huffed. "And after that stunt you pulled yesterday trying to get out of bed, you should be thankful we're letting you move at all."

It had been decided, after a great amount of debate, that Shawn could be taken to Juliet's room to see the detective. Although both were in recovery, it was decided that Juliet's skull fracture made her the less mobile one. Shawn's doctor and nurse seemed to accept that either they had to do this or Shawn would injure himself further trying to do it himself. But it didn't mean that they liked it.

Shawn pouted at Bree's chastising tone. "I just really need to see her." His voice gave away a little bit too much of the desperation he was feeling.

"I know, pumpkin. I know," Bree's tone softened. "We're just trying to keep you safe. You've had too many close calls."

"I'm fine." Shawn fiddled with the tape that fasted the IV Bree was pushing to his hand.

"Don't touch that," Bree scolded him. "And I don't think spiking a fever high enough to induce a seizure qualifies as fine."

"All in the past," Shawn shrugged.

"It happened just 24 hours ago."

"Right. And now we're in a totally new 24 hours," Shawn's face tightened. "Bree…"

"Okay, okay. You don't want to talk about it; I'll let it go. Maybe your Juliet can talk some sense into you," Bree relented. They continued at their snail-pace down the hall in silence until they finally stopped in front of a door.

Juliet's room.

Shawn could barely stop himself from hurtling out of the wheelchair and rushing in.

"Remember, she has some gaps in her memory," Bree paused to tell him.

"I know." Shawn didn't necessarily think that was a bad thing; there were many things about the past couple days that he would love to forget. His problem was the opposite though; he remembered every single damn detail.

 _He could still see the way Juliet's blue blouse had stained purple as her blood dripped onto it, could still hear the agonized whimper that Crow had torn from her throat, could still feel the slickness of her blood against his skin as she worked to untie his hands…_

And then the hospital door opened and there Juliet was.

Everything was exactly the same as the last time he saw her except this time her brilliant blue eyes blinked open and her face lit up with a smile that outshone all the bruises and cuts residing there.

"Jules," Shawn breathed, reaching for her hand as Bree pushed him closer.

"Shawn."

Her hand was solid and warm and _real_ in his.

"How… how's your head?" Shawn suddenly couldn't look at her as it sunk in yet again that all this, all the injuries and pain and danger, was because of _him_. Somehow in his desperation to have Juliet back, he had forgotten the reason she had almost been lost.

How could he just come into this room and need her?

"Shawn," Juliet's hand moved from his hand to his face, gently tilting in toward her. "I'm going to be fine. Are you doing okay?" Her hair, loose and golden, fell into her face as she leaned forward slightly.

"I'm fine." His gaze skittered away from hers.

"Shawn, what's wrong?" A tint of anguish bled through Juliet's voice.

"This… this is my fault," Shawn breathed.

Juliet's eyes flashed. "Don't you dare, Shawn."

Now he was confused.

"We did not go through… through _all whatever the hell that was_ just for you to withdraw into self-loathing. If you're going to blame yourself for my injuries then I'm going to blame myself for yours."

Shawn stared at her. "That doesn't make sense. This is like the time you threatened to kill me if I died."

Juliet jutted her chin out slightly, "I'm not sure what you're talking about but yes that sounds about right."

Shawn took a moment to process that, cautiously accepting the relief that crept through his being. "I think…" his voice dropped off to a whisper. "I think…" _I think I need you._

He couldn't finish the sentence; it was too much. She had given him too much already. He couldn't ask for more.

Juliet caught his hand again and held it tightly, her eyes closing briefly. "Shawn," she said finally. "I don't remember everything that happened. I mean, I know what happened in an overarching general sense. But the details… they're all fuzzy." She paused, holding eye contact with him. "But there's one thing I _know_ from all this. I can't really say why or that it makes sense, but _I want to be in your life._ "

Shawn could only blink in response, his heart racing in his chest as the world around him seemed to burst into colors and possibilities.

"Don't say anything yet," Juliet was watching his face. "I really _really_ don't want to put you in an unfair position. I know there's so much going on and I can't even imagine all the things you're trying to process, I mean your world just turned upside down and…" She was rambling and Shawn thought it was adorable. "And… What I'm trying to say is that whatever you need, however much or however little… I'm here. And I'm here because I want to be."

She held his gaze steadily, sincerity clear on her face.

"Juliet." Shawn swallowed thickly, his voice low with emotion. "I…" He had to stop because he didn't want to break down. Finally he found a way to say what he was trying to without completely falling apart. "You make me feel safe."

"And you make me feel happy," Juliet said softly and the words sent a jolt of joy through Shawn. "So… do you mind if I stick around?"

Shawn knew she was asking because he just couldn't and it made her love her all the more.

"Would you please?" He couldn't mask the raw emotion in his voice.

 _I think I need you._

He noted the way her blue eyes brightened and sparkled at his question and a sudden realization flooded him with warmth; she really truly wanted to be there.

Unable to contain himself, Shawn clung to Juliet's hand with both his.

" _Thank you."_

She smiled so brightly that his heart skipped a beat and it felt like hope.

* * *

 _ **We're getting there ya'll!**_

 _ **Next chapter will include Daddy Spencer, Chief Vick, and Lassie, so get excited!**_

 _ **~catlover1033**_


	14. The Ones We Hold

_**HAPPY BIRTHDAY GUEST! I hope you get a chance to read this on your birthday and enjoy it! I totally updated because of you - I couldn't leave you hanging on your birthday! Thank you also to all you dear readers and reviewers, you inspire me!**_

 _ **Alright, enough of me talking, here's the chapter!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Psych...**_

* * *

"Hey." Juliet tried to keep her voice gentle and even but it didn't stop Shawn from jumping slightly at the sudden noise. "You okay?"

That was a dumb question given the circumstances. It was doubtful that anyone was "okay" when about to re-meet their father after twelve years of forced separation.

Shawn shifted slightly and turned to look at her. The fluorescent lights caught the fading bruises that hugged his features and accentuated his haunted hazel eyes.

"Yeah. Are you sure you're okay to be here? How are you feeling?"

In an annoyingly predictable response, he was pushing the focus off his own pain and onto hers.

 _Stop treating me like I'm the only one here injured,_ Juliet had to bite back the words she really wanted to say. They were for another time, when Shawn wasn't approaching an intensely emotional situation. "I'm fine. I got the okay to be here and Bree is just around the corner if we need anything," was what she said instead.

"Thank you for being here." Shawn suddenly grabbed her hand and Juliet's annoyance immediately melted away. "I…" He looked away. "It sounds crazy, I know, but… I'm… I'm not ready to be alone with my family yet. It's too… raw." Shawn paused, haunted eyes darting around the room, avoiding her. "It's not because I don't want to see them. I want to see them more than anything," he added quickly. "For the last twelve years, this is all I've wanted. You have to believe that," he finally looked at her, anguish shadowing his face. "I just, my mind, it's… it's so much all at once… and I don't know… I don't know…" He tore his gaze away from hers, raking a hand through his hair then wincing as the movement pulled his injuries.

"Shawn." Juliet took his hand, gently covering it with hers, as though it were an injured bird trying to flutter away. "It's okay to feel whatever you're feeling. It's okay to _be_."

Shawn calmed significantly, jerky movements stilling as his hand relaxed into hers.

Just then the door opened, Bree giving them a tentative smile. "Shawn, your dad is here. Should I bring him in?"

Juliet automatically looked at Shawn, witnessing the churning emotions on the man's face. Excitement. Hope. Fear. He was tense again, his hand gripping hers.

"Yes." It seemed to be the only word Shawn could muster.

"Okay. I'll be right back."

And then she returned with Henry Spencer.

The room was dead silent as Henry stepped in, the two Spencer men wordlessly just _staring_ at each other as though looking for someone they knew within each other and themselves. Neither seemed to want to make the first move and Juliet could barely breathe as the atmosphere became saturated with the emotion radiating from the two men.

"Dad." Shawn broke the silence, his hand slipping out of Juliet's.

"Shawn."

They both had tears streaming down their faces yet neither moved.

"It's… it's good to see you," Henry wiped his eyes roughly.

The words were so ordinary and understated that Juliet had to stop the choking laughter that surged in her. Beside her, Shawn did not restrain himself, a sobbing chuckle escaping his lips.

"I see you still have a way with words." Shawn's face was tear-streaked, mischievous, and radiant all at the same time.

It was unclear to Juliet who moved first, whether it was Shawn who launched himself at Henry or Henry who quickly pulled Shawn into his arms, but suddenly the father and son were holding each other, rocking slightly.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

* * *

There was a soft knock on the door and Juliet looked up to find the commanding figure of her boss at the door. "Hey Juliet."

"Chief!" Unsure what to do, she started to get out of the hospital bed.

"Please don't move," Chief Vick hurried to stop her. "I don't want the nurse to kick me out."

Juliet smiled at that. The day had been a whirlwind of visitors and Juliet was sure that Rebecca, her nurse, would oust anybody at the first sign of overexertion. Among the visitors during the day were other officers, some to say hello, others to take her statement. However, it was Chief Vick and Lassiter that Juliet really wanted to see.

"How are you feeling?" Vick pulled up a nearby chair closer to the bed, her piercing eyes fixed on Juliet's face.

"I'm okay," Juliet shrugged. "I really want to get out of this hospital though." She glanced at the door, hoping to catch sight of Lassiter lurking but the chief was alone.

"You had a really serious head injury," Chief Vick's voice was brisk but sympathetic. "I, for one, am glad they're keeping you under observation a little longer." Now the chief's smile was affectionate and Juliet felt a rush of warmth at her boss's expression of care for her, the feeling only tinted by her worry regarding the overall situation.

"I might have broken some protocol, I… I can't quite remember how everything went down, but if so, I am prepared to face the consequences," Juliet straightened, deciding to get her concerns off her chest as soon as possible.

"Juliet." Vick leaned forward slightly. "You informed your supervising officer of the situation and made decisions under great duress to the best of your ability. If you hadn't acted when you did, there's no telling if we would have gotten Spencer home to his family. We _are_ going to have to go over some hostage protocol though. I would be furious about the way you put your life in danger if I wasn't so damn proud of you." Chief Vick's face softened into a smile. "The Spencer case has been haunting our department, hell this whole town, for twelve years. None of us thought it was possible that Shawn was alive, but you not only found him, you brought him home too." Vick's eyes misted very slightly. "You did good, Detective. You did good."

Juliet had to bite her lip to keep from beaming at the praise.

"Thank you."

As the moment faded into silence, Juliet couldn't stop herself from glancing at the door. There was still no sign of her lanky dark-haired partner.

"Where's Lassiter?" she finally asked.

Chief Vick grimaced slightly, "I couldn't get him to leave the station. He's been working day and night processing Gridwood and the rest of the crime ring."

Juliet blinked. "Gridwood?"

"He went by Crow."

Instantly, Juliet was flooded with images.

 _A man held a gun to Shawn's head, his menacing gaze the last thing she saw before her head erupted in pain and the surrounding carnival scenery went black._

 _Then the scene reversed and the gun was pressed against her temple and Shawn was bleeding on the ground. She needed the gun, she needed to protect him…_

 _Then the man's hand was wrapped in her hair, the drone of a helicopter fading away as she was thrown to the ground, metal handcuffs glinting above her. He was going to take her away with him. His malicious smile grew as he moved closer…_

"Juliet."

Juliet started, confusedly finding Chief Vick staring at her.

"Are you alright?" Vick's finger was poised near the call button, her blue eyes bright with worry.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," Juliet shook herself. "Generally everything is kinda fuzzy but then sometimes I get hit with specific memories." She took a deep steadying breath, trying to fight the sudden need to find Shawn and make sure he was okay. "I'm fine."

"Memories of Crow?" Chief Vick's hand hand moved away from the call button.

Juliet nodded. "I heard you guys got them all, the whole group. Are there any more threats?" She willed her voice to remain even despite the surge of anxiety that filled her.

Chief Vick sat back down. "We got the whole traveling carnival. We got them."

There was a tiny hesitation that Juliet did not like one bit. "But?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about right now."

"I need to to know." Juliet steeled herself even as her heart seemed to be faltering in her chest as she tried to guess what the bad news was.

Chief Vick swallowed hard. "The feds want to make a deal with Gridwood, Crow, whatever you want to call him."

Juliet sat straight up, ignoring the way her head throbbed at the movement. "What?!"

"The ring dealt drugs and guns to a _lot_ of different groups across the country. They want an informant so they can clear out all those groups. And Crow is the only one who has all the connections."

The hospital room swam slightly around her and Juliet couldn't stop the hatred that saturated her being from seeping out into her voice, "They _kidnapped_ a child and kept him captive for years, did God knows what… and then that man was going to murder Shawn the moment he didn't need him anymore. He abducted and assaulted an officer, they _can't_ … they can't…" Juliet nearly choked on her anger. "What are you going to do, put Shawn in Witness Protection? Make him a captive again?!"

"I hear you, O'Hara. We're doing everything we can, okay? Let us fight for you and Shawn; it's our turn now." Chief Vick put her hand on Juliet's shoulder, the movement confident and firm. "Your job is to get better." Juliet opened her mouth to protest but her boss cut her off. "That's an order, Detective."

"I'll second that." Rebecca appeared, brow furrowed as she looked over Juliet's vitals. "Excuse me Chief, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave…"

"Say no more," Chief Vick held up her hands. "I'll let you know when I have any updates but please don't worry about it. We're handling it."

Juliet bit her lip as she watched the chief leave, suddenly desperate to see her partner. In the midst of all the chaos of detective work, Lassiter had been there for her, in his own silent and somewhat brusque way.

So… where was he now?

As though summoned by her wishes, a movement at the door caught Juliet's eye and she found the Head Detective standing there.

"Carlton!" Her relief at seeing him was clear even to herself.

Detective Lassiter took a step forward, only to be intercepted by Rebecca. The short nurse put her hands on her hips, and Juliet knew there was no way Lassiter would get a step further without convincing Rebecca to let him past.

"Rebecca, it's my partner, Lassiter is Head Detective," Juliet hastened to explain. "Can you let him in? I really need to talk to him. Please?"

"It's okay, I'll just…" Lassiter awkwardly turned.

"No, don't leave." Juliet turned to look at her nurse pleadingly. "Rebecca, please?"

Rebecca huffed but stepped aside. "Five minutes," she warned. "Not a second longer."

Carlton Lassiter moved toward the bed, looking uncertain as to what to do or say.

"O'Hara," he said finally, giving a brisk nod as he lowered himself into the uncomfortable chair.

"Lassiter." Despite the awkwardness saturating the atmosphere, Juliet felt significantly better having her partner there. She hadn't realized just how much they depended on each other at work until she had been forced to fend for herself and Shawn on her own.

"How's your head?" Carlton's piercing blue eyes drifted to her assortment of bandages, a faint frown appearing.

"It's healing."

"Good." There was a pause. "And the younger Spencer?"

"Also healing."

"Good." Lassiter's leg bounced ever so slightly and for a moment Juliet thought he looked like a kid waiting in the principal's office.

"You didn't come by earlier," Juliet said finally.

Something akin to guilt flashed across the man's face. "The station has been very busy."

"Right," Juliet nodded. "I heard the whole carnival ring was taken in. That must be a ton of paperwork."

"Exactly. Tons of paperwork." His tone was businesslike but Juliet could tell there was something weighing on the detective. "We've got to make sure those bastards stay locked up."

"I heard that Crow might be making a deal with the feds…" It hurt to say that aloud, to acknowledge it as a reality.

Carlton's eyes flashed, cold with icy fury. "That is not going to happen." Even as he said the words, his hand went to his hip where Juliet knew he always carried his gun.

Somehow that was exactly what Juliet needed her partner to say. She leaned back, letting herself relax against the pillow Rebecca had insisted propping her up against.

"O'Hara…" Lassiter was avoiding looking at her again. "It should have been me."

"What?" Juliet's brow furrowed with confusion at the random statement.

Silence stretched between them as Lassiter fiddled intently with his badge.

"I never should have let you go in alone like that. It was a bad call and it nearly resulted in your death. I…" He finally looked at her, face etched with distress. "I… I'm sorry. It should be me in that bed."

Juliet took a moment to process that then felt the urge to laugh. "That's ridiculous."

Lassiter gave her an affronted look.

"What I mean," she tried to backpedal a bit, "is that there's no telling how things could have worked out. Lassiter, the situation was far worse than we thought and we had to move fast. I'd rather just focus on the fact that we all made it out. I mean, when I heard gunfire at the carnival, I didn't know…" she trailed off. "It all worked out and that's what matters. I just want to get out of this hospital and back out there."

"Whoa." Lassiter held up his hands. "You know they're going to make you see a shrink and take a bunch of tests before you can come back in the field, right?"

Juliet groaned. "I know."

"You'll be back before you know it." Lassiter patted her hand rather awkwardly. "At least, you better be. The station feels off without you."

Juliet stared at him. "Did you just admit that you miss me?"

"I just mean… McNab seems sad. And I feel bad for him, you know…"

"You miss me. You like having a partner."

"No," Lassiter snorted. "I love flying solo."

"Right," Juliet couldn't hold back her grin. "You work well alone. Because you're a tough detective who doesn't need anybody and cares about nothing but justice."

"Damn straight."

"And that's why you feel bad for McNab, because…?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, shut up O'Hara." Lassiter's voice was gruff but a smile hugged his features.

Juliet's laughter saw her partner to the door as Rebecca appeared and shooed Lassiter out. The tall man paused in the doorway.

"I'll see you soon."

"Count on it."

* * *

 _ **ldjflsdflkdsjfl guys there's only one more chapter of this story left!**_

 _ **Before you freak out, remember that there is going to be a sequel, which I am already working on, that delves into life post-this-story for our beloved characters. My beta and I decided the story needed to be broken into two in order to preserve the flow and momentum. So get excited for that!**_

 _ **Happy birthday again, Guest! I hope this chapter was a nice present for you!**_

 _ **Until the next one,**_

 _ **~catlover1033**_


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